Tool
by AnimeOtakuManga
Summary: Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable a**hole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races. He's my stepbrother. (Full summary inside)
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by ** **Sabrina Paige**

Summary: Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. Rumour is, he's well equipped. I wouldn't know. I've never had the pleasure. He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable a**hole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races. He's also my stepbrother. Four years since he's made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he's given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet. So it's just f**ing fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he's buried beneath three scantily clad blondes. Now I'm stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn't affected the use of his tool. The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can't help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.

**Sakura POV**

Chapter 1

At least this day can't get any worse.

Famous last words, I know. Except I can't help but think it, even as I'm limping down the walkway, headed toward the guesthouse and dragging my suitcase behind me.

The suitcase makes a sound that's only slightly less grating than nails on a chalkboard as I drag it over the concrete. It's held together with twine, clothes poking out of the sides every which way, and a giant sticker peeling at the edges that read, "Notice of Inspection." I'm holding one of the wheels in my hand, because of course as soon as I picked it up at baggage claim, a wheel went rolling off.

The suitcase looks better than I do, actually. Do you know those romantic comedies where the heroine falls in a fountain or gets caught in a downpour and is supposed to appear bedraggled but instead is breathtakingly gorgeous in spite of her dripping hair and clothes? Yeah, that's pretty much exactly the opposite of what I look like.

I look like I walked off the set of a horror movie. Outside of the airport, I caught my heel in a grate while I was walking and ripped it clean off my brand new designer shoe, crashing onto the sidewalk and skinning my knee. While I was hailing a cab, my umbrella had some kind of seizure, so my hair is plastered to my head; my clothes are soaked, and my black bra is completely visible through my white t-shirt. I know my shirt is transparent because the cab driver was helpful enough to point it out for me.

I'm hoping I can make it to the guesthouse without any further catastrophe. I didn't even stop at the main house – I want to clean up before seeing anyone I know, and as soon as I glimpsed the cars in the driveway, I knew I had to avoid that place.

I've just flown back to Konoha to start my new job, working in my father's company, Haruno Oil - my first professional job out of college. The last thing I need is to show up at the door looking like a hot mess in front of whatever business associates my family is likely entertaining.

Sneaking around to the guesthouse is a much smarter choice in my condition.

Besides, I don't think I even have the mental capacity to make coherent conversation with anyone. All I want is a shower. Actually, make that a bath. I want a bath and a stiff drink.

At least it's not raining anymore. That has to count for something, right?

I push open the door to the guesthouse with my shoulder, trying to wrangle my suitcase through the doorway. I'm making such a commotion that it's only when I turn around, I realize I'm not alone.

In fact, not alone is the understatement of the year.

There are probably twenty people staring at me. I scan the room, taking in their faces, trying to process the scene in my brain. It's some kind of photo shoot, models and makeup artists and clothing hung on racks in the corner of the room. Strategically placed lighting illuminates the set, and a photographer is turned toward the door, paused with his camera in hand, staring at me.

I'm standing here, barefoot and looking like a drowned rat, my gaze coming to rest on the chaise lounge in the middle of the room, where three tall, thin, beautiful blondes with perfectly coiffed hair and flawless makeup and expensive lace lingerie pose around him. The boy I used to know. The boy I last saw four years ago, when we were eighteen.

He's sure as hell not a boy anymore.

He looks right in my eyes, and I swear he can see through me. Then he gives me that cocky, shit-sure of himself, nothing-ever-surprises-me smirk, and I'm not certain whether the heat that rushes through me is anger or lust.

Sasuke Uchiha.

Motorcycle racer, womanizer, asshole extraordinaire. Four years ago, he was the bane of my existence. And my best friend, my confidant, my first love.

My stepbrother.

Crap. This day just got a hell of a lot worse.

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by ****Sabrina Paige**


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Summary:

I call him "Tool" because he's a d*ck.Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. Rumor is, he's well equipped.I wouldn't know. I've never had the pleasure.He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable a*hole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races.He's also my stepbrother. Four years since he's made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he's given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet.So it's just f*ing fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he's buried beneath three scantily clad blondes.Now I'm stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn't affected the use of his tool. The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can't help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.

Chapter 2

Sakura POV

"Well, now, as I live and breathe." Sasuke's voice reverberates through the room. I've spent four years trying to get that sound out of my head. His voice is low and gravely, with a hint of a drawl, the product of spending his formative years at a boarding school in Oto -- the boarding school was prestigious and pretentious, but Sasuke is anything but.

"Sasuke Uchiha." The words leave my mouth in one breath, heavy like an exhale. For a split second, seeing him there is almost enough to make everything else in here fade to black as if I'm looking at him with tunnel vision. It's the same Sasuke I used to know, with that arrogant smile that made me so angry and a body made for sin. Even back when we were teenagers.

Now, though…hell, I don't know that I've ever seen anyone that looks as holy-shit-hot as Sasuke does with his shirt off. When I last saw him, he had one tattoo on his shoulder, but now they snake around his forearms and biceps and cover his chest.

His very broad, very defined chest.

Sasuke used to be hot, but he's transformed into something else entirely. I've made a concerted effort to forget Sasuke Uchiha over the past four years, which is honestly pretty difficult when your stepbrother is a media darling, a sports figure the tabloids love. It involves going to extreme lengths: no looking at photo spreads in the sports magazines, shutting off the television interviews, ignoring the tabloid articles about Sasuke and whoever his girl-of-the-moment is, shrugging and changing the subject when friends want to know what Sasuke is like.

What Sasuke is like…The memory of my last night alone with him sticks in my head. It never leaves me. I've revisited it God knows how many times over the last few years, replaying it like some kind of movie.

Sasuke's lips are so close to mine that if I move even a millimetre, we'll be touching. And there's nothing more than I want on this green earth than to feel Sasuke's lips against mine. I want him more than anything…and that is exactly why I can't have him.

"Say it, Sakura."

"We can't."

"We can do whatever we want. Tell me you're mine."

Returning to Konoha is not supposed to mean coming back to Sasuke. Sasuke is the last person I wanted to ever see again. Out of sight, out of mind, right? But now, standing here…it feels like no time at all has passed between us.

"Sakura Haruno." He stands up and walks over to me. Limps over to me, to be more accurate. He has a boot on his foot, one of those things you wear after you've had surgery. I wonder what the hell happened. Knowing Sasuke, it'll be because he did something reckless on that motorcycle he races. He never was able to just race that thing, even when he was a teenager – it was always stunts, crazy shit, chasing the next adrenaline rush. And to Sasuke, a rush wasn't a rush unless it was death-defying.

I'm distracted from asking what happened by the fact that, aside from the boot, he's wearing not much else. Boxer briefs made of some kind of material that hugs his ass and his whole package, like it's a second skin. I force my eyes upward toward his face. It's hard not to look at…it. What he's packing. His Tool. That's what people call it. I used to call him the same thing, but for a different reason – because he frequently acted like such a dick.

His Tool is apparently legendary. I never got the chance to see it. The night I was supposed to meet him – the night it was supposed to happen between us – never happened. What can I say? Things were complicated between us from the first moment we met.

When Sasuke gets to me, he pauses, standing so close I can hear his breath and reaches out to push a tendril of wet hair away from my forehead.

Oh my God. My hair. My clothes.

My face flushes warm, and I know it must be bright red. For a split second, I'd forgotten I was standing here looking the way I look in the middle of this.

And now Sasuke is standing in front of me, looking the way he does – with a perfect body, being photographed next to equally perfect-looking models.

I want to sink into the ground, melt into a puddle of humiliation.

"You're wet," he says. His voice is low and deep and honeyed. The way the words roll off his tongue, long and languid, make them sound more sexual than if he'd told me to take off my panties right now. Electricity courses through my body, down to my fingertips, as the pad of his finger, grazes my skin.

I can't tear my eyes away from his. I swear I'd forgotten what his eyes looked like. They're this deep chocolate brown, flecked with gold and framed with lashes so thick they would make any woman envious. His lids are hooded, giving him this perpetually seductive look like he wants nothing more than to lounge around in bed all day.

He looks deeply into my eyes, and for a second I think we're the only two people in the room. For a moment, this is like a scene in a movie, the kind where the hero scoops up the heroine, bedraggled and soaking wet from the rainstorm, and kisses her in slow motion.

But my life is definitely not something out of a movie. I'm opening my mouth to respond to Sasuke when I'm cut off by the photographer, who's dressed head to toe in black and waving his camera behind Sasuke from across the room. "We have shots we need to get, please," he says, motioning impatiently toward the models.

Whatever moment was happening between Sasuke and me evaporates, so quickly I might have imagined it. "You should finish your shoot," I say.

Sasuke smirks. "You look like you'd like a hot bath."

Why does everything that comes out of his mouth sound like an invitation for more? I put that thought out of my head. Thinking about Sasuke – my stepbrother, for goodness' sake – that way is not good. It's not appropriate.

I look down at my wet clothes. "Yes. I need to clean up."

One of the models appears by Sasuke's side and places her hand on his bicep, jutting out her hip as she poses beside him. I recognize her from something – an ad, maybe – but I can't place it. She's tall and thin, with perky boobs and the kind of flat stomach I didn't think existed in real life. She wrinkles her nose as she looks at me, her expression unbridled disdain. That expression changes when she turns her focus back to Sasuke. "Sasuke," she says sweetly, "Is this your girlfriend?"

It's more than just an innocent question. I know that by the way, she touches him. She wants him; she's marking her territory.

Sasuke's eyes never leave mine, but with his other hand, he pats the hand that rests on his arm. "No, Ami," he says. "This is just my sister, Sakura."

Just my sister.

"Yes," I say, looking at Sasuke. "I'm just his stepsister. And I'm just leaving."

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Chapter 3**

**Sasuke POV**

An hour later, and we've finished the photo shoot, this editorial spread for a men's magazine: me surrounded by models in lingerie, the poster child for manwhores everywhere. And no sooner do we wrap up than Ami turns to me, her voice practically a purr, running her finger along my chest.

"You know," she whispers, tossing a glance over her shoulder at the staff just out of earshot. The other models are slipping into robes, but Ami stands there in her lacy bra and panties, completely comfortable. Hell, she should be. Her body is irresistibly hot. "Nana and Maki are up for a little fun if you are."

I look beyond her at Nana and Maki, the other two models with perfect perky tits and asses. "Maybe next time."

Ami pouts, an expression she seems to think is seductive but really makes me find her obnoxious. "If you change your mind," she says, turning to leave. "You should call me."

Any other time, I'd be all over this kind of offer. No red-blooded male passes up the opportunity to screw three blonde models. At least, Sasuke sure as hell doesn't. After all, that's my brand: racer, hothead, manwhore. My dick - or my tool, rather - can't be satiated. That's the angle a major magazine ran with years ago, and that's what everyone started talking about. Like my cock had a life of its own, pursuing women it just had to fuck. Even then, the idea made me roll my eyes.

After the magazine article came out, Sakura started calling me Tool, but she said it was because I was a dick, not because of my dick. Of course, Sakura never gave a shit about what anyone else thought of me. She's probably the only person in my life who's ever been that way.

Any other time, I'd be up for three hot blondes. Any other time except an hour after Sakura Haruno just waltzed back into my life. Or, rather, came barreling through the door, a whirlwind of disarray, with her sopping wet clothes and hair plastered to her forehead.

I should be screwing three blondes right now. But instead, I'm thinking about Sakura. Sakura and that glance she gave me when I tucked that strand of pink hair behind her ear. Those wide eyes of hers, looking up at me. The way her lower lip fell open just a little bit, and that sharp intake of breath when I touched her. She probably thinks I didn't notice, but I sure as hell did. And it took everything in my power to keep from getting a raging hard-on right then and there in front of everyone.

Four years ago, I spent the entire summer alternating between arguing with that girl and trying to keep from throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her into my bed like some kind of caveman. She's always been the ultimate in off-limits. I have no doubt that my stepfather – the owner of the team I race for - would break out his shotgun if he thought I had my sights set on Sakura.

Besides, Sakura is all business. She made that clear before. She was heading to Suna with big plans, and nothing was going to get in her way. Especially not someone like me. And, besides, she's the one who didn't show up that night.

So what the hell is she doing, back here in Konoha? And why the fuck am I suddenly turning down guaranteed sex with models because my stepsister, the girl who used to get under my skin and give me a ration of shit at every turn, shows up on my front door looking like something the cat dragged in?

"Hang on," Sakura yells. When she pulls open the door, she's breathless, her face flushed, hair hanging wet down to her shoulders - combed and straight now, no longer in damp tangled strands. And...a towel wrapped around her, tucked between her breasts. I tell myself to keep my eyes up, but shit, it's damn near impossible, and she catches me staring. "Oh my God, Sasuke, just stop."

"What?" I ask innocently.

"You know what," she whispers.

Okay, so I'm a shithead. The fact that she caught me staring at her tits makes me smirk and I can't hide the smug look on my face. She notices that too.

"Why are you laughing?" she asks, indignant. Then she lowers her voice to a whisper again. "I saw you looking at my boobs. Cut it out."

I step forward, close to her. Damn it. She smells like vanilla or something I can't quite place, the scent of her shampoo lingering in the air. Like cookies. Which immediately makes me think about eating her. And that thought, the thought of being between her legs, renders me suddenly mute. Stop staring and say something, I remind myself.

"What?" she asks, her voice soft. Silky.

"You know no one is around," I say. "My mom and your father are gone. No one is going to hear you, so you don't have to whisper. Besides, you're wearing a towel. I can't help but look."

She rolls her eyes and exhales loudly, stepping back from me. Putting distance between us. "Well, it's nice to see that nothing much has changed since I saw you last."

"I don't know about that, Sakura," I say, emphasizing my nickname for her, the old one I used after she took to calling me, Tool. I like to think it was affectionate, although it would get under her skin like nobody's business. She hated it. I can't help but use it now. Maybe I just want to get a rise out of her. Hell, if she tried to hit me, she might even drop that towel. "You've definitely changed."

Her eyes fly open wide. "You're so juvenile," she says.

"You're telling me that no one calls you Saku anymore?"

"You're the only one who ever called me by that stupid name," she says. Her hand is still holding the towel between her breasts as if she's afraid it's going to go flying off her body at any moment. I resist the impulse to slip my finger between the folds of the towel and flick open the fabric. I remind myself that would be wrong. "And if you keep doing it, then I'll start calling you Tool again."

I smirk, but my words come out with an edge. "Aw, sis, it's just like old times."

Sakura groans. "And definitely don't call me sis," she says. "Why are you here, anyway? Are you finished with - whatever it is you were doing in the guest house?"

"You make it sound seedy," I say. "It's not like I was shooting porn."

She gives me a look that could freeze boiling water, one eyebrow raised, and it makes me laugh. I'd forgotten that look. She used to give it to me a lot. "Humph. You could have fooled me."

"Jealous?" I ask.

"Of - what was her name?" Sakura asks. I can tell she's trying to sound casual but she's definitely failing. "Ami?"

I smile. "You don't have anything to be jealous of," I say. "Those models have nothing on you." It comes out before I even think about what I'm saying.

Her lips part for a second, and I think about sliding my hands around to the small of her back, pulling her against me, and bringing my mouth down hard on hers. But I don't. I want to know what she's about to say, and I find myself slightly disappointed when she doesn't respond.

"So. Are you going to ask me inside, or are you just planning to keep standing there in your doorway in a towel?" I ask. I'm totally pushing my luck. I want to see if she'll actually invite me to her room. The Sakura I knew four years ago never would have said yes. That Sakura was far too concerned with playing by the rules.

She hesitates, and for a second I think she might actually do it. Then she raises her eyebrows. "Do you really think I'm going to invite you into my room?"

I shrug. "Can't fault me for trying."

"Of course I can," she says. "You're my stepbrother. It's obscene."

"That fact didn't seem to deter you before," I say. "Besides, we're not related. Not even a little bit. Doesn't count."

"Why did you come up here, Sasuke ?" she asks, ignoring my attempt to discuss our familial relationship.

"Can't I welcome you home?" I ask. "Do I have to have any other reason?"

"You hiked all the way over to the house in that - what is that thing on your foot, anyway?"

"It's a boot. I shattered my tibia," I say.

"Should I ask what you were doing?"

"What do you think I was doing?"

The edges of her mouth turn up in a half-smile. "I would say you were pulling some riding stunt, but it's far more likely that you broke yourself in some kind of scandalous sexcapade."

I reach between my legs to grab my crotch. "Well, it's a damn good thing that what's important survived," I say, wiggling my eyebrows.

Sakura shakes her head disapprovingly but her eyes twinkle. "Yes, it's definitely a good thing your brain wasn't injured."

I can't help but laugh. "It's been boring here without you, you know."

"Sasuke, what happened that night -" she starts, but a shrill voice from the other end of the hallway cuts through the air.

"Sakura!" My mother Mikoto strides down the hall, wearing wide-legged white pants and a matching white shirt made of flowy material that billows as she walks, the look effortlessly casual but something I know cost thousands of dollars, made by some pretentious designer. Her hair and makeup are styled as if she's just stepped off the set of a television show, and she's wearing sunglasses inside the house. My mother hasn't modelled in ten years, but she treats every step as if she's still walking the runway in Suna.

"Mikoto," Sakura says. She reaches out with one arm to hug her as if she's momentarily forgotten she's only wearing a towel and then glances at me before grasping her towel tighter. "Sorry, I would - Sasuke knocked on the door and, uh, caught me by surprise."

"Clearly," Mikoto says, peering over the edge of her glasses at me. "Nice to see you out of the guest house."

"Nice to see you without your broom, mother," I say, as she air-kisses both sides of my face as if I'm one of her friends she luncheons with.

She turns toward Sakra and stage whispers. "He's been even more insufferable since the injury, as I'm sure you can tell."

"You're more bitter than usual," I retort. "The three martinis at lunch didn't take the edge off?"

Mikoto ignores me. "Did we send a driver to pick you up at the airport, Sakura?" she asks. "It was on my list, but I had a luncheon with the -"

"It was fine," Sakura says.

"Actually," I start, but Sakura interrupts me.

"It was totally fine," Sakura says, more emphatically this time. "And now, I'm going to get dressed, if that's okay?"

"Should I tell your father you'll meet him at the office?" Mikoto asks.

"Um. It's pretty late?" Sakura's voice is tentative.

"Oh, yes," Mikoto says. "I got carried away at lunch."

"Obviously," I say with a snort.

"Sasuke, let her get changed for dinner. Stop bothering her." Mikoto turns without waiting for a response and flutters back down the hall, a sea of billowing fabric.

Sakura starts to close the door but pauses. "Yeah, Sasuke," she whispers, sticking her tongue out like a child. "Stop bothering me."

I'm about to make a lewd comment in response, but she's already shut the door.

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Summary:

I call him "Tool" because he's a d*ck.Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. Rumor is, he's well equipped.I wouldn't know. I've never had the pleasure.He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable a*hole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races.He's also my stepbrother. Four years since he's made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he's given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet.So it's just f*ing fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he's buried beneath three scantily clad blondes.Now I'm stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn't affected the use of his tool. The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can't help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.

Chapter 3

Sakura POV

"I thought I mentioned that Sakura was coming back." My father sips from a glass of scotch, talking to Sasuke. It's him and Sasuke and I for dinner. Mikoto had a headache, which is apparently a euphemism for drinking too much. I wonder how often she has headaches.

"I think I would have remembered that, Kizashi," Sasuke says, glancing at me. He smirks, and I can feel a flush spread up my chest all the way to my cheeks. I swear, if my father saw it… But Kizashi is busy sawing at his steak, blood oozing from the meat and pooling on his plate. I give Sasuke a cut-it-out look. Obviously Sasuke hasn't matured over the years. I resolve to tell him later to stop the shameless flirtation, but I'm not entirely convinced it wouldn't encourage him even more. In fact, I know it would. Sasuke has a rebellious streak a mile wide. Which is why I want to ask him why the hell he's back here, living under my father's roof. Or at least on my father's estate, anyway.

"Well, good Lord," Sasuke drawls, gesturing with his steak knife still in his hand. "I guess I've been so wrapped up in the buyout lately that I didn't even think about it." My father talks about his acquisition of a small natural energy company like it's some kind of new thing, but it's hardly news. He has an expansionist mentality and wants Haruno Oil to be a major player in terms of energy industries world-wide. "Of course, Sakura only just accepted my offer. Finally."

"You taught me to play hard to get," I say, spooning a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth. I wasn't playing hard to get, not really; this is my first job out of college, and my degree is in Asian studies. Against my mother's wishes, I followed my heart, and it's certainly not the most practical degree choice in the world.

No one was beating down my door to give me a job; and my mother, who's on her fourth marriage to a wealthy importer who spends most of his time overseas, couldn't even fathom why I would want to work instead of spending my days being a socialite in Suna. My father taught me to believe in working for a living; it helped that he convinced me to at least add another major to the mix and study business as well.

"Oh, really? Did he teach you that?" Sasuke asks. Then I feel the un-freaking-believable: Sasuke's hand on my leg. He gives my thigh a little squeeze, and I almost jumped out of my skin. And not just because I'm startled, either – but because his touch does what it did before. It sends warmth running through my body like an electric current. When I look up at him in shock, he's giving me that cocky smirk of his. Then he fucking winks. "Playing hard to get is underrated."

My father doesn't seem to notice what's happening. He cuts off another piece of steak, but pauses as he brings the fork to his mouth. "Which brings me to what I wanted to talk about at dinner. With both of you."

Sasuke squeezes my leg again, and I pick up my steak knife and point it in his direction, shooting him a warning look. He chuckles, but moves his hand away. If he thinks I'm still the girl he used to know, that I'm going to get involved in these kinds of juvenile games, he has another thing coming.

"What did you want to talk about, dad?" I ask.

"I'll get to it in a minute," Kizashi says. "The photo shoot went well? They got the product placement in there?"

"Done deal," Gaige says.

My father nods. "It's a good partnership, Haruno and your team. You're a hot brand. Even after that goddamned accident."

Sasuke rolls his eyes. "Well, it's good to know that at least I haven't ruined the brand," he says, his tone sarcastic.

The tone is lost on my father. "I've been giving some thought to your work role, Sakura," he says. "And this affects Sasuke."

I swallow hard. When my father sold me on coming to work for him, there was no mention of Sasuke being involved in any way. Sure, I'd heard that my father bought Sasuke's racing team a year ago, but I didn't think that meant Sasuke was living here. Or that he was actually working with my father. I mean, what the hell does the CEO of a company do with a racing team, anyway? I figured it was one of those things my father bought for fun and then handed off to someone else to deal with.

"I'm all ears," Sasuke says. I can feel him looking at me and I pointedly snub him. After he put his hand on my leg, the only appropriate response is to ignore his antics, possibly forever. I reach for my water glass to distract myself from Sasuke's gaze.

"I want you on Sasuke," Beau says.

I choke on my sip of water, coughing loudly. Beside me, I think I hear Sasuke chuckle. Screw him if he thinks this is funny.

"Are you okay?" Kizashi asks.

"Water…wrong…pipe," I gasped.

"I'm sure it's not that she doesn't want to work with me," Sasuke says.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kizashi says. "Why wouldn't she want to work with you? You're family. She hasn't even heard what I need her for yet."

Family. I cough a few more times before I speak, hoping my tone conveys the level of irritation that I feel. "Why are you both talking about me like I'm not even here?"

Sasuke leans toward my father. "Well, she seems rather sensitive this evening."

Kizashi chortles. "Don't wind her up," he says. "You know, I remember she used to get like this when she was younger, too. Mood swings, hormones, you know."

Heat rises to my face, and I push my chair away from the table, standing and throwing my napkin on my plate. "Would you say something like that to a female employee?"

My father stares at me and blinks. I'm fairly certain he'd never expect such a reaction from me. "Of course not," he says. "I was only joking."

"This is exactly the reason I wasn't sure I wanted to come back here to work for you," I say, trying to maintain my composure. "Because I was afraid you wouldn't treat me professionally."

My father gives me a long look, then clears his throat. "You're right."

I am? Has Hell frozen over? I don't think I've ever heard my father admit I was right, not once in my whole life. "I am," I say, steadying my voice.

"I wouldn't have made that comment to a female employee, and it was inappropriate to say to you. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. Now. Will you listen to what I have to say? I want you working with Sasuke."

"Me?" I ask, my tone suddenly an octave higher. "Why?"

"Will you please sit?" Kizashi asks.

I sink into my seat. I absolutely, positively, in no way, shape, or form, can spend time working with Sasuke.

I think of that last kiss, four years ago, the kiss I swear still lingers on my lips. I think of Sasuke sweeping the hair away from my forehead earlier, the arousal that coursed through me at his touch.

And then I think of Sasuke's reputation, his revolving door of women. The fact that he seems to have the innate ability to push all of my buttons and irritate the shit out of me.

And the fact that he's my damn stepbrother.

But overriding everything, all I can think about when I look at him now is the unfinished business that hangs in the air between us.

Working with Sasuke would be way too damn dangerous. I can't think of anything that would be worse.

"I have news that affects both of you." Kizashi's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Sasuke knows most of this, but not all of it. Haruno Oil needs a face of the company, someone the public associates with us. Someone sexy."

Sasuke laughs.

"No offense, Sasuke," Kizashi drawls. "I mean sexy in a business sense. Sasuke is perfect. He draws in the male and female demographic. He's going to do for Haruno what the race car drivers do for other companies."

My father refuses to actually name his competitors in private, instead referring to them as "that other organization" or "the one with the idiot CEO."

"Okay," I say. I'm failing to anticipate how this is going to involve me. My father promised me an entry-level position, something a normal college graduate would have. Please, please, please, I silently beg the universe, do not let this be the kind of thing where I have to get coffee for Sasuke or something equally humiliating.

"This is a huge deal," Kizashi says. "And we're partnering with one of the biggest motorcycle manufacturers in the world for a Japanese tour during the off season, during which Sasuke is going to promote Haruno Oil at every opportunity. There's the potential for them to sign on to use Sasuke in major promotion in the future. And Haruno Oil."

"Congratulations," I say, nodding at Sasuke, who's smiling like the cat that ate the canary. I'm afraid to ask what he might be thinking. I look warily at my father.

"I want you on Sasuke in Japan," he says.

"Me?" I squeak.

No, no, no. Hell, no. The words echo in my head.

"Wait. What?" Sasuke asks. He sounds as surprised as I am.

"Shouldn't someone more…I don't know, experienced…go with Sasuke?"

"And someone who's not my stepsister," Sasuke says. Now he doesn't sound surprised; he sounded irritated. Why shouldn't he want to go with me? I'm the one who shouldn't want to go with him. "You didn't mention this before."

"I didn't mention it because I hadn't realized yet how useful Sakura would be," Kizashi says. "Besides, there will be plenty of experienced people – the company rep and Sasuke's staff."

What the what? Sasuke has staff?

"But, I don't understand," I say. This entire situation refuses to compute in my brain. "Why would you need me?"

Sasuke makes a sound under his breath. "Don't you get it?" he asks. "So you can be my fucking babysitter."

"You speak Japanese," Kizashi says.

"But surely there are translators."

"Not ones I'd trust the way I trust you," he says.

"Exactly," Sasuke says. He stands up. "Your father wants to negotiate me being the face of Haruno Oil, but he doesn't actually think I'm capable of doing just that."

I look up at Sasuke, suddenly torn between feeling completely weird and awkward about this position, and defending my father. "I'm sure that's not what he's saying. Right, dad?"

But my father hesitates a second too long, and Sasuke pushes himself away from the table. "That's exactly what he's saying," he says. "Come on, Sakura. This is a great opportunity for you. When else in your life are you going to get a chance to babysit the famous train wreck, Sasuke Uchiha?"

Sasuke doesn't say anything else, just storms out of the room, and I'm left sitting there at the table with my father, the air in the room tense.

"Dad," I start. "Am I just going to be a glorified babysitter? Surely someone else would be better for that than his own step sister. Like his manager or something."

"I didn't want Sasuke to take it that way," he says. "But…"

"But it's true." I don't even bother to hide my groan. "Come on, dad…"

"Sasuke is going to do wonders as the face of Haruno Oil. We're too uncool; we need someone exactly like him to make oil young and hot. Oil isn't sexy now."

"But Sasuke is unpredictable."

"He's like a horse that needs broken," Kizashi says. "He needs to be kept from pulling stupid stunts like the one that got his leg messed up, and from picking up the wrong girls in Japan."

"I shouldn't be the one to –"

"I would very much like if you would do this. Give it some thought. You're not leaving immediately. It won't be until the end of next month. You both have a while to get used to the idea."

I would very much like if you would do this. There's a reason my father has gotten where he has in life. He has a way of issuing demands without making them sound like demands. His requests are never actually requests. They're orders. It's actually rather Japanese of him; I wonder if he knows that.

"Dad, you can't think that I'm going to be the one to keep him in line overseas," I protest.

"That's exactly what I need you to do," Kizashi says. "I have full confidence in you. I can't trust anyone else. You've always had a way with him, and he's always listened to you."

"What?" My voice is high pitched now. "That's not true. I haven't even seen him in years. We only spent two summers together after you and Mikoto got married. I hardly know him."

Kizashi shrugs. "He respects you."

I almost burst out laughing, but I know my father would be terribly offended. "I hardly think that's true. Sasuke doesn't respect anyone."

"You'll keep him out of trouble," Kizashi rises from his seat and comes around to my side of the table, putting his arm around my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He kisses me on the top of the head the way he used to do when I was young. "I trust you. And I'm glad you're home. I think I might just be the proudest father in the world, getting the chance to work with his daughter."

"Damn, you really know how to work people, Dad." I shake my head. The last thing I want to do is babysit Sasuke, and yet here I am acting as if it's a foregone conclusion already.

"I know you'll do the right thing, Sakura," he says, before he leaves.

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Summary:

I call him "Tool" because he's a d*ck.Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. Rumor is, he's well equipped.I wouldn't know. I've never had the pleasure.He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable a*hole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races.He's also my stepbrother. Four years since he's made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he's given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet.So it's just f*ing fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he's buried beneath three scantily clad blondes.Now I'm stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn't affected the use of his tool. The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can't help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.

Chapter 4

Sasuke POV

Fuck, I'm pissed off. I came back to live here after the accident because I needed to recover from surgery. Two surgeries and two months later, my tibia is no longer in a million pieces. And at least I can get around, even if it's in this goddamned boot that leaves me limping like an idiot. But I'm ready to get the fuck out of this place. It's been a lame couple of months, definitely not as filled with booze and girls and parties as I'd thought a few months of mandatory rest would be.

But that's not what's irritating me right now. That's the background, but what's pissing me off is this deal with my stepfather. I generally don't mind him. Even though he's a cowboy boot-wearing, born-and-bred Haruno, he's not a bad guy. He's not a drunk, or a wife-beater, or a gambler. The guy's biggest vices are hunting, cigar smoking, and buying insanely expensive scotch. And talking about Konoha.

But he tries to do right by me. This deal is a lot of money, and it's Kizashi's company. He's concerned about my "brand" – of course, he's also concerned about Haruno Oil's brand. That's where I come in – I can make big oil "cool and approachable" for millennials who don't trust big corporations.

If it were anyone else but Kizashi, I'd have said no to the whole "face of the company" thing. I don't want to tour Japan and smile pretty for the cameras, just like I didn't want to do that bullshit photo shoot with the models either. Sure, three hot blonds made it less painful, but I'm a racer.

I want to race. I miss the rush of adrenaline, sitting on the bench for the past two months. No amount of working out can match the rush I get going a hundred and fifty miles an hour on the back of a bike. You can't replicate that shit doing anything else in the world.

Except maybe when you're fucking.

But hell, good sex like that, the life-altering kind that mimics the rush of racing? That shit happens once in a lifetime, maybe.

I think that's the way it would have been for me and Sakura. I've thought about that a lot. More than a lot. Fuck, I've jerked off to her memory a thousand times. We never got quite that far.

And now Kizashi makes me feel like a jackass in front of her, a child who needs babysat because I can't be responsible enough to take care of myself. I'm an idiot for convincing myself that Kizashi thought I was a good investment, an adult and not an irresponsible kid. But that's exactly what he thinks, just like everyone else.

I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts I almost don't even hear the knock on the front door. There's no way it's Kizashi coming here to apologize; if there's one thing Kizashi doesn't do, it's admit he's wrong.

I pulled the door open, and Sakura stands there, looking nervous as hell. And hot. Hot and nervous as hell, in my doorway at eight o'clock at night. Shit. I'm already aggravated and pissed off -- and now I'm getting hard, too.

"Can I come in?" She tucks her hair behind her ear, the same way she used to do when she was nervous. I guess some things don't really change after all.

"What, did you trek all the way down here to gloat about how you're going to babysit my ass in Japan?" I stand in the doorway, blocking her entry.

"Why am I the bad guy all of a sudden, Sasuke?" she asks. "I thought we were getting along."

"Getting along?" I ask, feeling a surge of anger. I'm not irritated with her; I'm angry because I agreed to do this thing I don't even give a shit about, because I thought her father respected me, but it turns out he doesn't. I know I shouldn't be taking it out on her, but I can't seem to help myself. "Yeah, we used to get along, didn't we? Did you come down here to see if you could help yourself to that old style of getting along?"

Sakura's face colors red, the way it does when she's angry, or embarrassed, or upset. She's probably all of the above right now, I imagine. Does she think I forgot what passed between us?

"Don't take it out on me because you're pissed off, Sasuke Uchiha," she says, punctuating her words by poking my chest with her fingers. I wrap my fingers around hers, pulling her against me, and she inhales sharply, the hiss of air audible in the silence of the evening.

"Pissed off?" I ask. Her body feels warm against mine, and I want more than anything to kiss the ever-loving hell out of this girl. Scratch that -- I don't want to just kiss this girl. I want to tear her clothes off right here, right now, and plunge my cock between her legs. "Did you come down here to the guest house because you wanted to talk about a work trip that's a month away? Or did you come for something else?"

Sakura struggles against me. "Let go of me, Sasuke," she hisses.

"You sure you want me to, darlin'?" I ask. I run my other hand along the side of her neck and she tilts her head to the side, into my touch. She's practically purring as I touch her. She looks at me, her green eyes wide.

"I don't know what you're implying, Sasuke," she whispers.

"I'm not implying anything, Sakura," I say. "I'm outright saying that you waltzed that little ass of yours all the way down here from the main house at this time of night for something that couldn't wait."

"You should let me go," she says, but her voice is softer now, the edge from before suddenly gone. I'd let her go if her pupils weren't as big as saucers and her breath weren't coming in short gasps.

"Or what, Sakura?" I ask. "You're so hot for me you're practically panting. I bet if I were to reach between those legs of yours, you'd be soaked."

"Don't be disgusting," she says. This time, she yanks her hand from my grasp and pushes away from me. Apparently, suggesting she came down here to screw me was one thing but talking about putting my fingers between her legs crossed some kind of imaginary line.

Her reaction makes me want to keep crossing that line, pushing that same button over and over and over. What can I say? I'm a fucking child. So I guess Sakura's father had a point after all. Maybe I'm not maturing as I get older. It's funny how Sakura makes me feel like a damn teenager.

"Whatever you say." If she's going to babysit me, I might as well give her something to fucking babysit.

I can see Sakura's jaw clench and she tugs at the edges of her shirt, smoothing it. "What happened between us was years ago," she says, her voice hard. "It was a lifetime ago."

What happened between us. She doesn't say the actual words. She doesn't describe the kiss that started everything that summer, the kiss that sent both of us spiraling out of control, reckless in our pursuit of each other, until it came to a crashing halt just before anything went too far. She fails to mention the stolen kisses when we were left alone, the frenzied groping that carried the promise of more. More that never happened.

And I've never forgotten about it.

"Right," I say. "And you've never thought about any of it in the past four years?"

She waits a moment too long to respond. "I don't think about it at all."

"Liar," I say.

"If you think I came down here to get some of your...tool..." Her eyes drop down to my waist, then lower. "You'd be wrong."

"You tell me why you walked your fine little ass down here then."

"I came back to Konoha to work, Sasuke," she says. "That's it. And that's why I came down here tonight. To say I want things to be professional."

"Professional," I say.

Sakura nods. I want to kiss that serious expression right the hell off her face. "Appropriate," she says.

"Appropriate," I echo.

I definitely don't do appropriate, and I'm sure as fuck not doing appropriate with Sakura Haruno. In fact, getting under Sakura's skin and making her behave inappropriately just might be the kind of cure for boredom I've been looking for.

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Summary:

I call him "Tool" because he's a d*ck.Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. Rumor is, he's well equipped.I wouldn't know. I've never had the pleasure.He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable a*hole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races.He's also my stepbrother. Four years since he's made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he's given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet.So it's just f*ing fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he's buried beneath three scantily clad blondes.Now I'm stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn't affected the use of his tool. The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can't help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.

Chapter 5

Sakura POV

It's my first day of work at my father's company. My first real job. And I couldn't be more uncomfortable if I tried, as I survey my office. Sure, it's no bigger than a closet, but it's an office. With a damn window. The window might overlook the parking lot, but it's still a window. Most new college graduates would be absolutely thrilled to have a setup like this, but not me.

I should be in a cubicle, but the fact that I'm my father's daughter has gotten me an office with walls and everything. I make a mental note to tell him later that I should be moved. People are already going to hate me enough, just because it's my father's company.

I can already tell it's a huge problem by the way my brand new boss Karin has treated me since I walked in the door this morning, her voice practically dripping with contempt when I introduced myself. Karin is Sasuke's domestic account manager, and I instantly know she hates me.

When I hear the knock on the door, I groan inwardly, steeling myself for her. "Come in."

It's not Karin. It's Sasuke.

Sasuke walking through the door on my first day is fucking perfect. Especially after I just saw him last night, when he was pissed off and angry and...sexy, the way he pulled me close to him, his hand wrapped around my fingers, practically threatening to kiss me.

No. I refuse to even let my thoughts go there. The past is the past. When you're eighteen years old, on your way to finally throw caution to the wind and sleep with the guy you like more than anything else in the world and you're intercepted by a girl he may or may not be screwing, that makes you feel differently about him.

Of course, it was damn hard to ignore how I felt about him last night, the way my heart raced and my breath caught in my throat when he pulled me toward him. Sasuke had the same effect on me back then. All along, I've discounted my memories of that summer, attributing my desire for Sasuke to the fact that we were eighteen and our hormones were crazy, but here I am, standing in front of him again, and it's like nothing has changed. He still irritates the shit out of me. And sends desire ricocheting through my body.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, crossing the room to shut the office door behind him. "It's my first day. I don't need any grief from you, Sasuke."

"2Sakura," he says. "Do you really think that poorly of me? I came bearing a first-day-at-the-office gift and coffee."

It's not even nine in the morning. I can't decide if I'm annoyed that he's in my office or pleased that he dragged himself out of bed to show up here. He's wearing a bright pink t-shirt that somehow has the opposite effect you'd expect from a pink shirt, making him look even more masculine than he did last night, which seems to be a ridiculously unfair trick the universe is playing. The soft cotton fabric grazes over his body, and I can see the outline of his chest muscles underneath. I have to force my eyes away, anywhere else but on his chest.

He has a box tucked under his arm, wrapped in royal blue paper and tied with a silver bow, and a coffee cup in each hand. He handed me one of the cups, and I take it apprehensively. "What's all this?" I ask.

"It's a peace offering," he says. "Three creams, two sugars."

Four years since I walked out of his life, and he remembers how I take my coffee? He's being way too nice this morning. I peeled off the lid of the coffee and sniff it, then look up at him. "Should I question whether it's been poisoned?"

Sasuke cocks his head to the side. "I'm horrified you even have to ask, darlin'," he says in that drawl of his, the one that practically drips with sex.

I can't help but laugh. "Sure, because you'd never spike my drink with anything."

"If you're referring to the moonshine incident, that happened four years ago, and I've matured since then," he says.

"You're claiming to have matured?" I ask. "Now I definitely don't trust you."

"You have to admit it was funny," he says. "And you were a lot more entertaining at my mother's event than you would have been otherwise."

"Oh my God, Sasuke, it was a charity event," I say. "A bunch of socialites didn't need to see me trying to do karaoke at a party where there wasn't even a band." At least Sasuke escorted me out of the room without causing an even bigger scene than I'd already made that night.

"I can hardly be faulted for what happened," he says. "If you recall correctly, I didn't exactly spike your drink. You stole mine, and it wasn't my fault it was leaded instead of unleaded fuel."

"What?" I shake my head. "You didn't stop me from taking it!"

Sasuke shrugs, but his eyes are bright. "Caveat emptor," he says. "Let the buyer beware and all that. How would I know you had less than zero alcohol tolerance?"

"Because I was eighteen," I say.

Sasuke smirks. "My tolerance was great, and I was eighteen."

"You were wild." I put the lid back on the cup and Sasuke watches me, chuckling. "I was innocent."

A slow smirk pulls up the corner of his mouth, and my hand trembles just seeing that smirk. I have to steady it with my other hand. "Not that innocent," he says.

The words are heavy, dripping with desire. Or maybe that's just the way they sound to me. I clear my throat to cut the tension between us. "Thanks, anyway, but I'll pass."

"You really aren't going to drink it?" he asks. "You don't have room to complain, not after what you did later to get me back. I mean, you went the obvious route, so you got zero points for creativity, but whatever."

"Laxatives in the coffee might not be that original," I agree. "But it was effective. You were running to the bathroom every five minutes, and that was good enough for me."

Sasuke sips from his cup. "I expected more from you, Sakura."

"Next time I'll try not to disappoint." When he brings his cup away from his mouth, I reach out and take it from his hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm swapping with you." I hand him my cup, and take a sip of his while he smirks.

"There is nothing in that," he says. "Cross my heart."

"Then you can go ahead and drink that one. But I'm glad you've turned over a new leaf," I say. "No more pranks."

"No more pranks," Sasuke says. "Of course not. We've both grown up. And I've vowed to behave appropriately."

"I'm glad to hear it," I say. I don't believe a damn word that comes out of that boy's mouth. Behave appropriately, my ass. I'm just glad he hasn't seen fit to strip naked right here in the office just for shits and grins. Okay, whatever, maybe I'm a little disappointed he hasn't seen fit to strip naked.

"And as a token of goodwill, I brought you a gift." Sasuke hands me the package.

A knock on the door interrupts us, and my bitchy boss storms in, her red hair pulled tight into a ponytail that makes her high cheekbones look even sharper. She's the kind of long-legged porcelain skinned girl you'd see on a runway, not in an office, but her attitude makes her appearance even more severe. "Sakura, HR is just a complete clusterfuck with your file, and they're up my ass instead of yours like they should be. Just because your father is who he is doesn't mean you -- oh."

"Karin, this is Sasuke – " I start, but she interrupts me with a look of scorn, immediately greeting Sasuke with a kiss on the cheek, before thrusting the file into my hands.

"Obviously I know Sasuke," she says, her hand tracing along his bicep, her fingers lingering just a little too long to be appropriate.

Irritation surges through me as I watch Karin touch him. "Of course," I say. "I didn't realize."

"Sasuke is a dear friend," Karin says, and the way Sasuke glances at me, I wonder if he's slept with her.

I struggle to maintain my composure, steeling my jaw. Of course Sasuke is Karin dear friend. I'm sure Sasuke has a million other dear friends.

It's totally irrelevant who he's slept with. I have zero claim on him. We fooled around years ago. And he's my stepbrother. I had a stupid teenage crush, and that's it. I'm not jealous, I tell myself. I just don't like Karin. To be more accurate, I didn't like her before. But now I'm starting to really hate her.

The bitch's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Fix your PR paperwork, Karin. If you can manage to fit that into your busy schedule," she says. "Sasuke, we need to talk about this weekend."

This weekend? Sasuke addresses Karin, irritation in his voice. "Karin, there's something I need to talk to Sa- "

"Vegas, Sasuke," Karin says curtly. She turns to me for a brief moment before returning her attention to Sasuke. "Your stepbrother and I are on a flight out to Vegas tonight, Sakura. Sasuke, we need to go through the schedule."

"Karin, I was in the middle of a conversation with Sakura, one I plan to finish," Sasuke starts.

"Oh, I'm sure it can wait," I interrupt. "Karin has a more immediate claim on your time, I think."

His eyes meet mine, and I look away, ignoring him as Karin steers him out of the office.

I set the package down on the desk, intending to leave it there, unopened, for the rest of the day. In fact, I should toss it in the trash. Leave it to Sasuke to have slept with my perfect-looking boss, the one who hates me enough as it is. And, what's worse, be going to Vegas with her.

I make it through the HR paperwork -- which takes all of thirty minutes -- and then sit there, staring at the gift box for another five minutes before I finally cave.

I lift the lid off the box gingerly, half-afraid of what's inside. Knowing Sasuke, it could be anything. When nothing jumps out at me and the box doesn't explode, I pull the lid off and set it aside.

It's a cock. Sasuke sent me a box with a freaking cock inside.

As a first day at the office gift.

I'm shaking my head and opening the note at the same time. I can't believe Sasuke had the balls -- pun intended -- to send me a fucking dick, of all things.

Sakura,

Since you couldn't admit what you really wanted last night, I thought I'd remind you.

P.S. It's a dildo made from a mold of my cock. Hn I know, it's awesome, right? If you're lucky, someday you might get to see the real thing.

P.P.S. The box is a TOOLbox. Get it?

I stared at it in disbelief. That fucker actually sent me a dildo made from a mold of his cock? I shove the lid back on the box like the entire thing is radioactive, and stare at it for a few minutes, before pulling it back off and looking at it again.

Holy crap. There's no way in hell that's Sasuke's actual, no shit, real-life dick.

I put the lid back.

It cannot be made from his cock. He picked up the dildo at an adult store.

Oh my God, what if it really is his? Pulling the lid off the box again, I touch my fingertips to the surface of the shaft, then jump back, like it's going to explode.

Don't be ridiculous, I tell myself. Sasuke did not have the time to make a mold of his cock.

There's only one way to find out. The thought jumps into my head. Now, that is an inappropriate thought. I slam the lid back on the box, and sit there, my palms flat on the top of it.

Five minutes later, I'm taking the lid off again and picking up the dildo. Just to see it. My hand can barely fit around the shaft. I tell myself I'm not doing anything wrong, that it's just a stupid joke, but there's definitely something dirty about picking up a dildo made from a mold of your stepbrother's penis.

What if it is his dick? Only Sasuke would keep a fucking cock-making-kit somewhere for handy access.

The over-the-top ridiculousness of the gesture hits me and I can't stop giggling. When I finally compose myself, I close the lid and tuck the box into the bottom drawer of my desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

Except for the fact that all day long, my thoughts keep drifting to that bottom desk drawer and what's inside. I'm sure that's exactly what Sasuke wanted -- to get me thinking about his tool.

Authors Note: Please vote on poll for octobers update

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Summary:**

**I call him "Tool" because he's a dick. Sasuke is nicknamed "Tool" because of what he's packing. Rumour is, he's well equipped.I wouldn't know. I've never had the pleasure. He's a cocky, entitled, insufferable asshole who's as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races. He's also my stepbrother. Four years since he's made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he's given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet. So it's just fucking fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he's buried beneath three scantily clad blondes. Now I'm stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn't affected the use of his tool. The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can't help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.**

**Chapter 6**

**Sasuke POV**

"How was your day, darlin'?" I pause in her doorway, leaning against the door frame. My day consisted of the usual - spending a few hours in the gym and then physical therapy - but preceded by a visit to Sakura's office. Screwing around with Sakura isn't on my usual list of activities, so I had something extra to look forward to this morning. I woke with a spring in my step. As much as I could have a spring in my step with this boot on my damn foot, anyway.

My mood was great until Karin interrupted us. Karin and I went out once a few months ago - a business dinner and that's it. She's aggressive as hell and I got the vibe that she wanted it to be more than a business dinner. I also got the vibe that she's wound tight as a spring, the kind of chick who might go all psycho, boil a bunny or some shit. And that's exactly the kind of girl I stay the hell away from. But she's good at what she does, so I haven't had a reason to ask Kizashi to reassign her. Yet.

The point is, I wanted to see Sakura 's face when she opened the box. And Karin walked in and ruined the whole fucking thing.

Sakura is bent over, one hand on the white bedspread that covers her bed, the other on the zipper on the inside of her heeled boots. She positively oozes temptation, wearing a black pencil skirt, the fabric pulled tight over the contours of her ass, and matching "fuck me" boots. Her hair spills forward, partially obscuring her face, and she finishes zipping her boot before she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and stands up, glaring at me. "What are you doing here?" she asks. "Don't you have to be in Vegas or something? And don't call me darling."

"It's darlin', not darling, first of all. And second of all, it's a term of endearment," I say, shrugging. "You've been in New York for too long. This is me being polite, showing my Konoha roots."

Sakura puts her hands on her hips and looks at me with her eyes narrowed. "It's condescending," she says. "And you're not even from Konoha."

I step inside her room, looking around. "I'm hurt that you'd say that, Sakura," I say. "What would you like me to call you? You hate Sakura, and now you don't like darlin', either? And living in Konoha the past few years makes me practically a Konohan. In fact, I should have your father take me shopping for cowboy boots."

"You can call me by my name like a normal person," she says. "And you never answered my question. Don't you have a flight to catch?"

"Shit, what crawled up your ass tonight?" I walk past the photos she's already hung on her wall, her and her friends in various touristy places - in front of the National Monument in Washington DC, the Lincoln Center, standing outside of a bar in New York City. "Can't I check in on my stepsister before I jet out for this business bullshit?"

Sakura crosses to the other side of the room, standing in front of one of the photos protectively, her arms over her chest. I really should tell her that the gesture does absolutely nothing to hide those tits. In fact, it only pushes them up higher, giving me an even better view. "Nothing crawled up my ass."

"You could have fooled me," I say. "You were practically a ray of sunshine this morning, and now you're, well...not."

She gives me a look. I know that look. It's the one she used to give me when I'd rile her up and make her crazy. It's the one that says she might be close to murdering me. "I'm trying to make sure you're not late," she says. "Remember, my new job involves managing you. Why aren't you at the airport already?"

"I'm on my way," I say. "The driver is waiting for me downstairs."

"So you thought you'd stop by and try to get under my skin before you left me in peace for the weekend?"

"I need to leave you something to remember me," I say.

"I think you already did that."

"I know," I say. "I'm disappointed. I gave you the best first-day-of-work present ever and you have no reaction at all?"

"It was exceptionally mature." She rolls her eyes.

"If you'd have used it, you might be less grouchy," I say. "You haven't used it, have you?"

"No, I haven't used it," she says. "How totally..."

"Filthy?" I ask.

"Disgusting," she says.

"Because it's my cock, or because we're family?"

"Do I have to choose one option?" she asks. "And don't try to pass it off as if it was really made from your cock."

"It's mine," I say, reaching for my belt buckle. "You can compare it to the real thing, if you want."

"Oh my God, no," she protests. "Stop."

"That's just sad," I say.

"What?"

"That you've lost your sense of humor. Old Sakura would have laughed at something like that."

"New Sakura is just as likely to laugh at your cock," she says, looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

"Then why all the hate?"

Sakura exhales heavily. "Maybe it would have been a better present for Karin," she says.

"Ah, so that's it," I say. I turn and squint at the photos on the wall, trying to see if there are any boyfriends I should be aware of. Not that I want to be Sakura's boyfriend. That's not my fucking style. I like my women boyfriendless. I brush aside the brief realization that I just thought of Sakura as "my woman."

"What's it?" Sakura tilts her head up. She's wearing makeup - eyeliner and lip gloss, her cheeks a rosy red that gives her a flush that reminds me of sex.

"You really do have quite a jealous streak, don't you," I notice.

"I'm not jealous in the least," she says. "I just think you should be directing your little cock jokes toward someone who's more interested in them than I am."

"Sure you're not jealous, darlin'," I say, looking at her lips. Those soft, plump, lying-ass lips. "And I've never heard my cock described as little."

Delaney runs her tongue over her lower lip and I want to take it between my teeth. Her lip-gloss gives it a sheen that makes it even more irresistible. I bring my hands to the wall over her head, pressing them flat there so that I can't possibly grab her in my arms the way I want to and crush my mouth down on hers. Instead, I just stand there, pushing my hands into the wall and looking into those bright green eyes.

"I don't care what you do," Sakura says, looking up at me. "With Karin or otherwise. So have fun on your Vegas trip."

"You should just admit you're jealous," I advise. "It's not good to keep all that pent up anger inside, you know. It leads to all kinds of problems." I don't mention that this Vegas trip with Karin is exactly the last thing I'd ever want to do. It was booked before Kizashi had assigned Sakura to me, and it's going to be a fan event. I'd been hoping that if I swung by Sakura's room, I might be able to talk her into going and being a fucking buffer between me and Karin. But it doesn't look like that's going to go the way I pictured.

Sakura groans. "I'm not jealous."

"Liar." I whisper the word, looking into Sakura's eyes. Her pupils are as large as saucers, her own body betraying her.

She laughs. "You're one to talk," she says.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." She shakes her head.

"It's not nothing," I say. "I might be a lot of things, but I'm sure as hell honest."

Sakura raises her eyebrows. "Never mind. It was a long time ago, Sasuke," she says. "It's all water under the bridge."

"Darlin', nothing about us is water under the bridge," I say.

"I didn't come back here to restart something with you, Sasuke."

"You and I are the fucking definition of unfinished." I want to pull that skirt of hers up over that curvy ass and show her exactly how I want to restart things between us.

"It was finished that night," she says, finally looking away.

Now I slide my fingers under the edge of her chin and tilt it up at me. Touching her sends a jolt of electricity ricocheting through my body. I run my thumb along the other side of her jaw, trying to keep my desire for her under control. I'm trying to be reasonable. "The night you never showed up?"

She pulls away from me and steps back, crossing her arms over her chest. "You mean the night I ran into - what was her name, Ami or something?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I was on my way to meet you in the guest house that night," she says. "Until I ran into one of your bimbos on the way." fitness tech man to be sit

"I didn't fucking have any bimbos," I say.

"Some girl," she says. "She knew you." The way she says the last three words, practically spitting them out, tells me everything I need to know. Whatever the hell she misunderstood about whatever girl showed up back then, she's been sitting on that for the past four fucking years.

I hear my voice soften, despite my annoyance at her for being so easily dissuaded back then. "There were no other girls, Sakura."

She rolls her eyes. "Sure, Sasuke," she says. "You're as pure as the driven snow."

"Exactly the opposite," I say. Before Sakura, there were lots of girls, a parade of girls I displayed partially to make her jealous. But the moment she kissed me that summer, it ruined me for anyone else. There wasn't anyone, as long as she was there. When she left, well, that was a different story. Post-Sakura, I was sure as hell the opposite of pure. I fucked every chick I could find who might possibly erase Sakura from my head. "But when you and I were together back then, there were no other girls. I might be a lot of things, but I'm no cheater."

"So some chick just shows up at your house, her panties in hand, ready to party?" she asks. She shakes her head again, purses her lips. She doesn't believe me. "Anyway, the entire thing is irrelevant. We weren't together; there was nothing between us. You might not think it's water under the bridge, but I haven't given it a moment's thought since I left Konoha. Karin is my boss and your manager at Haruno's. So I'm looking out for you."

"You're looking out for me, huh?" I ask. "That's it?"

"That's it," she says. "Don't shit where you eat. That's all I'm concerned about."

"I'm sure that's all it is, darlin'." She's obviously lying. I'm tempted to kiss her, but I don't.

"Have a nice flight," she says abruptly. My cue to leave.

"I hope you can find a way to entertain yourself while I'm gone," I say. I picture her using the dildo and the thought makes me rock hard. Damn it, there's nothing worse than leaving for a trip with your dick as hard as a fucking rock.

"I will," she says.

I'm down the stairs and on the way to the airport before I realize that her "I will" sounded way too smug. And she was all dressed up, fuck me boots and all. I was so concerned about giving her grief, I didn't even ask where the hell she was going. Trapped in the car on the way to the airport, I can't stop thinking about it. And now I really don't want to be stuck in Vegas with Karin.

**Vote on the poll for the next update schedule!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Chapter 7**

**Sakura POV**

"Oh my God, how much did you miss real Konoha umeboshi when we were in Suna?" I dip my spoon into the bowl and shove the entire thing into my mouth. "I am absolutely starving."

"Here are your drinks." The waitress sets our glasses and silver shakers on the table and disappears as quickly as she arrived.

"Cheers to your first day at work," Sai says, holding up his glass. I met Sai two years ago at Suna – I literally bumped into him while he was on his way to an audition. It turned out, he was from Konoha, and we became instantaneous friends.

"Even if it doesn't really count?" I take a sip of the drink, a Konoha specialty that's like a margarita in a martini glass, complete with olives.

"Shut up," Sai says, sipping his drink. "Who cares if your daddy is the CEO of the company? That's how the world works. At least your mother didn't have you auditioning for commercials before you could walk."

Laughing, I crunch on another chip. "But the commercials from when you were a toddler were totally adorable."

"It's appalling that they're on the internet," he says, rolling his eyes. "It used to be that people's shameful childhood experiences didn't live on forever and ever."

"They're cute," I insist. "And besides, now it's saved for posterity. When you become super famous, they'll use them in one of those throwback episodes: a glimpse into Sai's childhood."

"Now I feel tons better," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Cute is just fantastic for my dating life, by the way."

"How is the dating life?"

"Oh, you know," he says. "I'm seeing a few guys, no one special."

"What about the lawyer?"

"Too work obsessed, of course," he says. "There's nothing new with my dating life. I'll die a spinster."

"You're not going to die a spinster. But if it's any consolation, you'd make a fabulous spinster," I note.

"I really need to date someone with a title," he says, sipping his drink. "Like a prince. Or an earl. Oh, but I want to hear about the famous stepbrother."

"What?" My voice goes up an octave. "How did you know he was here?"

Sai's eyes narrow and he sips his drink. "You didn't think you could hide this from me, did you?" he asks. "I read an article."

"You follow motorcycle racing?" I ask, my voice dripping with disbelief.

"No," he says. "But I follow hot guys. And Sasuke Uchiha is hot as hell. Isn't he? Tell me he's lying around the pool sunning himself. Oh, tell me he needs a cabana boy."

"Ugh, cut it out. That's my stepbrother you're talking about."

"So what?" Sai asks.

"So, it's repulsive," I say. Is it obvious that I'm lying? "I don't think of him that way." But my protests sound weak, feeble, and I have to take a sip of my drink to cover up my faltering voice.

Sai studies me from across the table. "First of all, you're not related. Didn't you only meet a few years ago, anyway?"

"When we were seventeen," I say. "Anyway, he's completely skeevy. He's a total manwhore."

"You know that's how I like 'em," Sai says, wiggling his eyebrows. "Maybe he's just not finding what he needs, screwing all those girls."

I laugh. "You want me to set you up, let him know you're hot for him?"

"I'll settle for the opportunity to ogle him as he lays out by the pool," Sai says. "You can even join us if you like."

"Well, you'll have to wait on that, because he's in Vegas for the weekend. With my new boss, Karin." The drink is making me a little tipsy, and I put extra emphasis on her name, punctuating it at the end with a dramatic eye roll.

"Ooh, this sounds good," Sai says. "The first day at the job and we already hate the boss? Doesn't she know you're the CEO's daughter? How dare she get on your bad side?"

"She definitely knows I'm the CEO's daughter," I say. "I'm sure that's why she hates me. That, or..."

"Or what?"

"I don't know," I say. If I tell Sai that I think Karin has the hots for Sasuke, he'll think I'm crushing on Sasuke myself. And that's not something I want to discuss, not with anyone. "It's nothing. I'm going to be stuck traveling with them to Kirigakure. I'm babysitting Sasuke, basically. Can you imagine?"

"Mmm," he says, closing his eyes. "Wait. I'm imagining it right now. In this scenario, he's shirtless. Uh oh, all of his pants were lost by the baggage handlers. How unfortunate."

I reach across the table and slap Sai's hand. "Open your eyes. You should be expressing your sympathy for me, not fantasizing about my asshole stepbrother."

"Traveling to Kirigakure to babysit one of the hottest men on the planet?" he asks. "Yeah, let me see if I can muster up some sympathy for you." He pauses for a second. "Nope, I just can't do it. Sorry."

"You're a terrible friend."

"Aw," Sai pouts and flags down our waitress as she passes, ordering another round of drinks. "Fine. We won't discuss your stepbrother and how sexy he is. We'll talk about the boss instead. She's a bitch, right? Tell me all about what a bitch she is."

"She hates me, and -" I start, but Karin interrupts.

"Wait. Okay, we can get back to bitchface in a second," he says. "Of course, I already hate her because she's on her way to - where did you say she was taking my future husband?"

"Vegas."

"Okay, because she's on her way to Vegas with my future husband," he says. "I will say one more thing, and then mum's the word, okay?"

I exhale heavily, downing the rest of my drink. "Go ahead. What?"

"So they call him Tool, right?"

I groan loudly. "No way, I'm not talking about this. No, no, no, no."

"What?" He puts his hands up. "It's what they call him. You're acting as if I made this name up. All I want to know is if it's as legendary as they say it is."

"Holy shit, Sai." I feel my face flush as I think about the tool Sasuke left me in the office. It's not in the office anymore, though; obviously, I couldn't keep it there, so the box is carefully hidden behind some clothes in my closet. I'm so tipsy, I almost tell Sai what Sasuke did. Except I can't quite bring myself to do it. I suddenly feel like holding on to this, my little secret. "I'm not telling you about Sasuke's tool."

He leans forward and lowers his voice to a conspiratorial level. "So you know about it, then."

"I do not know about it!" I yelp, sounding defensive. "I know nothing about Sasuke's dick, thank you very much. I'll leave that to whatever floozy of the hour he's hooking up with."

Sai raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair, cocktail in hand, surveying me. "Floozy, huh?"

"That's right. Floozy."

"Are you ninety years old?" he asks. "And you're calling me a spinster."

"Floozy is not an old term," I protest. "It's...okay, fine, it's an old term. But it never goes out of style."

"So Sasuke is hooking up with floozies," Sai says. "And maybe your boss, judging by your reaction."

"Can we talk about something else?" I ask. I don't want to think about Sasuke anymore. And I definitely don't want to think about whatever he and Karin are doing in Vegas. I'm sure the liquor is flowing like water, and Karin is doing exactly what she did with him in the office, her hand lingering too long on his arm. Except for this time, she's probably wearing some skimpy dress and he's all over her. I shake off the feeling of disgust I get when I think about the two of them together.

"You're a little touchy about this," Sai says, studying my expression. I avoid looking at him, grateful when the waitress interrupts us with our checks.

"What?" I ask after she leaves.

Sai shrugs. "I've never seen you so touchy about someone before," he says. "You're not into him, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I say, forcing a laugh. "That would be insane. Of course, I'm not into him. I don't even like him."

"Sure, doll," he says, still looking at me. "Whatever you say."


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Chapter 8**

**Sasuke POV**

Thump thump thump thump. The pounding of the bass in the club vaguely matches the throbbing of my head. I should be fucking ecstatic, sitting in the VIP section of one of the hottest clubs in Vegas, getting paid to hit on hot girls and drink only the most expensive liquor. Karin isn't even glued to my side like I thought she'd be. As far as I know, she'd be all over me in a heartbeat if I gave her the green light, she's also all about business and she knows that it's good for business for me to be picking up chicks. It's all about the motherfucking brand.

The problem is, all of this is for show. I still have my boot on, which gives me a great excuse for sitting here with my leg propped up instead of having to fake being into this whole thing. And I'm drinking club soda instead of liquor. I haven't even banged a single model in the bathroom.

Sasuke Uchiha, sober and celibate. Hell really has frozen right the fuck over.

Maybe I'm having a stroke or something. Personality change is a symptom of stroke, isn't it? Or I have a brain tumor. I make a mental note to talk to my doctor when I get back to Konoha: "Doc, I'm feeling different from my usual whorish self. I think I might be ill." It's a perfectly legitimate concern.

The girl on my right paws at me, leaning over, her long pink hair grazing my arm, and for a second when I glance at her hair, I'm reminded of Sakura.

As if I could forget Sakura. She's been running through my head since we left Konoha. Last night, I threw my phone at the bottom of my bag and watched TV in the hotel room until I passed out, just so I could avoid thinking about her and where she was going dressed the way she was. At the fan event today, I could have sworn I saw her in the crowd.

Maybe I do have a fucking tumor.

"I'm not wearing panties." The girl has to yell it into my ear, despite being so close to me I can feel her lips against my skin. I look down at her, letting my gaze linger on her long tan legs and her short-short white dress. The dress with no panties underneath.

"Maybe next time," I say. Part of me thinks I should say yes. What I need to do is take that girl in the bathroom and fuck her up against the bathroom stall. I could shake myself out of this slump.

Except it's not as much of a slump as it is the fact that my thoughts are preoccupied with Sakura.

The girl slides her hand over my chest, and I push it away, careful not to be too forceful. I want to fling it off me, get her disgusting paw away from me. But Sasuke Uchiha doesn't do that. Sasuke Uchiha is always up for a good time.

She leans in closer. "I'm up for anything," she says. "Anything."

I groan. Normally, I'd be all over this. The girl is hot – she's tall, thin, looks like she stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine, and she's offering anything. Anything is exactly what I like to hear.

And I'm turning it down?

Something is definitely wrong with me.

I break down and text Sakura.

**Have you used it yet?**

It's not more than a minute before she responds.

**Of course not.**

Then, a second later, she sends another text:

**Obviously, I built a shrine to it in my room.**

I'm sure Sakura was so embarrassed by it that she has it stashed away somewhere in the room where no one would ever find it. Under her bed, maybe, or in the closet. She's private like that. She embarrasses easily. I used to love getting a rise out of her, watching her blush when I'd say anything even remotely sexual to her. Innuendo used to make her face turn pink. It's still just as fun getting under her skin.

**Damn, he's meant to be touched, not to be put on a pedestal.**

Karin catches my eye from where she sits at the other side of the VIP area and glares at me, then looks at the phone. It's business, I mouth, and she shakes her head. Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm supposed to be partying, doing shots off the taut little abdomens of college girls.

The phone buzzes again and I click on the text.

**I'm sure the real thing is getting plenty of touching in Vegas.**

Sakura's obvious jealousy actually makes me pleased. I don't know why she's insecure. She's a fuckton more interesting than the girls I'm surrounded with, with their glazed-over eyes and their plastic bodies. She's smart as hell. Smarter than I am. She's also prettier than these chicks – looks real, you know? She's not a stick figure. She's normal. Curvy. Really fucking curvy.

In fact, my cock stirs just thinking about the way she looked, when she bursts through the door of the guesthouse in the middle of my photoshoot, her shirt completely see-through and clinging to her tits. If I think any more about Sakura and her curves, I'm going to have to go jerk off in the bathroom, and that could be awkward.

**Jealous? I thought you had a hot date last night.**

I can't resist asking. I want to know who the fuck she was with. I don't even know if she has a fucking boyfriend. She could have a damn fiancé, that's how much I know about her life since we've been apart. I don't even know why the fuck I care.

She's the one that got away. The thought floats through my head, and that's proof positive that I'm losing my damn mind. It's the fucking medication the doctor has me on that must be the problem. There's no way Sakura Haruno is some long lost love. The only thing that got away from me was the chance to hook up with her. That's what it is. She's just the one chick I never screwed. I should still be pissed as fuck at her for not showing up that night. And then for ignoring me, acting as if nothing ever happened between us. And for leaving for college after that. My phone buzzes again.

**LOL. Date with a friend.**

Yeah, right. What kind of friend is she dressing up for in boots like that? I'm annoyed thinking about her and one of her girlfriends out picking up guys. Or, hell, what if the friend is a guy?

**A friend with benefits?**

She doesn't respond. I flip around on my phone, paging through my social media accounts, while the music in the club provides an annoying background for my thoughts. I wait another few minutes and get no response, then slide my phone in my pocket.

Friend with benefits. The thought of Sakura hooking up with someone else makes me unnaturally angry. So angry, that when I look up to see Karin standing in front of me, I snap at her. "What?"

Chelsea leans in close, her hand on my arm, her breath warm against my ear. "You're not having fun."

I shrug. "I have to take a leak."

"The bodyguard will go with you."

Shit. I can't even fucking take a leak on my own, without having some three-hundred-pound gorilla hold my damn dick for me? Being rich and famous is a real trip, that's for damn sure.

I'm too tired to even argue with Karin. I don't care. The bodyguard parts the sea of people in the club and starts to follow me into the bathroom. "What?" I ask. "Are you going to fucking watch me take a leak now, too?"

He ignores me, going in first and looking around. Sakura's damn father apparently hires security who think they're guarding the President or something, instead of a two-bit celebrity like me.

I'm washing my hands, noting that Sakura still hasn't texted me back, when the door opens. I expect it to be the bodyguard, but it isn't. It's Karin.

"Shit. Can't I get two minutes of quiet?"

She pouts. That damn pout of hers has got to go. It's so fucking annoying. What is it with girls and pouting? It doesn't look cute; it looks juvenile. Sakura doesn't pout. The thought goes through my head and I want to rip it out of my brain. Screw Sakura and whoever she's hooking up within Konoha.

"Do you want me to leave?" Karin asks. She walks over to me, stands in front of me with her hand on her hip and one leg jutted out to the side. She knows how to work her body, I'll give her that much. She's wearing this little red number that offsets her skin and her red hair.

Do I want her to leave? I hesitate before I answer. "Whatever you're about to say, don't. It'll just make it awkward in the future, Karin."

She purses her lips, eyes me thoughtfully. But she doesn't move. "You're my client," she says. "Which means I'm at your disposal. And you look tense."

"I am fucking tense," I say. "When can we get out of here?"

"An hour longer," she says, stepping forward. I realize she thought that my saying I was tense was an invitation for more. "If you'd like, I can help you feel…less tense."

I should take her up on the invitation. Or take the other chick up on her invite for more. That would be the smart thing to do. That would be the Sakura thing to do.

But my phone is in my pocket, weighing heavy on my thoughts. And more specifically, Sakura is weighing on my thoughts. It's her I can't get out of my fucking head.

"Well?" she asks.

"Well, nothing, Karin," I say, my voice hard. "I hope I don't have to get a new manager at Karin because things got awkward between us."

Karin slides her palms down the sides of her dress, straightening the fabric. "I hope not," she says. "It would be a shame to lose you as a client."

Then she turns and walks out of the bathroom like nothing ever happened.

"I've always wanted you, Sasuke." Sakura unhooks her bra and tosses it to the floor, her petite breasts full in front of me. She shimmies out of her panties, shaking them from her thighs, the movement making her breasts sway.

I reach out to touch them, but she shakes her head, making a tsk-tsk sound with her tongue before she drops to her knees at my feet. Holy shit. I take her face in my hands, her skin smooth against my palms, and pull her face up to look at me. I can't stop looking at her. I can't believe this is Sakura– the girl I lusted after all summer, the girl I still can't stop thinking about. Classy, breathtakingly beautiful, out-of-my-league Sakura Haruno.

On her knees, her face so close to my cock I can feel her warm breath against my skin. Christ, my fucking dick is about to explode already.

She looks up at me, mischief in her eyes, then opens her mouth, touching the tip of her tongue to the head of my cock, where pre-cum already glistens on the tip. Her eyes never leave mine, and the fact that she's looking at me the way she is, her mouth open like she's begging for it, makes me want to come already.

"Shit, Sakura," I groan. "You keep doing that and I'm going to come all over that pretty little face of yours."

"Promises, promises, Sasuke," she says. "You're all talk." She reaches between my legs to cup my heavy balls with one hand as she wraps her lips around my cock, enveloping me with her warm wet mouth.

"I'll show you talk," I started to say, but I can't think as she works her magic lips, so I run my hands through her long dark hair, pulling her against me, forcing her to take me deeper. When she moans, the vibration from her throat reverberates up the length of my dick, and I want to let go.

I wake with a start, my heart pounding in my chest, sitting upright. Shit. A fucking dream about Sakura blowing me. That's just great. My cock is as hard as a damn rock. I lay back against the pillow. Giving Sakura hell for pure entertainment value is one thing, but a sex dream about her is something else entirely. She's made it more than crystal clear that she's not interested in me anymore. And there are plenty of women who are more than willing to be on their knees, mouths open for me.

Wrapping my hand around my cock, I stroke my length, closing my eyes to conjure up an image of an open-mouthed blonde with big tits, ready to wrap her plump lips around me. The problem is, I'm so fucking close already, thanks to my dream about Sakura, that it takes all of a minute to send me over the edge. And it's not an open-mouth blonde I'm thinking about. It's Sakura's face I see, Sakura's tits I can't stop imagining, Sakura's lips I picture wrapped around my cock. When I come, it's because of Sakura.

This is going to be a fucking problem.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Chapter 9**

**Sakura POV**

I'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark. The quiet in the house is practically deafening. My father and Mikoto went to bed right after dinner. Or rather, Mikoto was inebriated and my father escorted her to bed. I don't remember Mikoto being a lush a few years ago, but maybe my memory of things is just that clouded. What I remember about Sasuke seems to be clouding my judgment now, making me think about our past.

Sasuke slides his finger underneath my chin, tilts my head up toward his. "Tell me you want me," he says, his voice low in his throat.

"I can't." My voice catches, and I look away from him. "We can't, Sasuke."

"Because of our parents?" With his other hand, he reaches for a tendril of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. His touch sends a shiver up my spine. It's all I can do to stand there, unmoving, when what I want to do is to tell him yes. I want to tell him to bring his mouth crashing down on mine. I want to tell him to yank my skirt up around my waist, to thrust himself between my legs and inside me. I want to tell him to throw me down on the ground and fuck me, right here.

But I'm nervous. It's not going to be my first time- that honor goes to my tenth grade boyfriend. I'm not like Sasuke who's been with lots of girls. What if I don't measure up?

"Of course not," I say. "We're not even related." But I'm lying about the fact that we're stepsiblings not being a big deal. Maybe it wouldn't be a big deal here in Konoha, but I can't even imagine the kind of drama it would cause in Iwa. My mother would be horrified. I can already picture her face going white, the hand that clutches her cocktail glass shaking as she realizes her only daughter is hooking up with the bad boy stepson of her ex-husband. She'd blame it all on my father. I should have known that sending you to Konoha for the summer would be a mistake, she'd say.

I'm beginning to think it was a mistake, too. Do I really think that all of the running around, the late night talks about life outside in the garden and stolen kisses in the hallway, is a good idea?

At least, I feel that way until Sasuke slides his finger away from my chin and grips a handful of hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me toward him before I can even register a response. A pang of pain surges through me, but he brings his mouth down hard on mine, muting my yelp, and the pain turns into pleasure as his tongue finds mine.

He's touched me before, of course. There has been lots of touching – tentative at first, that first kiss outside after we'd stayed up until 2 a.m., drinking beer Sasuke stole from the kitchen and talking about life. Half-drunk and delirious from fatigue, I leaned in close to him, touching my lips to his. That was all me, the first kiss. I initiated it. I kissed him. That first kiss was teasing, tentative, joking almost, the kind of kiss that happens when you're unsure what the hell is going on between you.

That kiss was nothing like this one. This kiss is lust and passion and the pent up frustration that comes with all of the kissing and touching that's led to nothing except more kissing and touching. This kiss holds the promise of much more.

I give in to him, my body melting against his, desire flooding every inch of me, flowing through my veins. I've wanted this all summer long. I wanted this since the moment Sasuke looked at me. No matter how much I've tried to deny it, I haven't been able to stop fantasizing about him. I tried to hate him, I really did. It seemed like it would be easy. But then we became friends. And I found myself liking him.

I'm terrified of wanting him.

And the thought of being with him, completely with him, makes my body stiffen. Sasuke feels it immediately and pulls back, holding me at arm's length. My lips throb from his bruising kiss.

"What?" he asks. "Still think we can't?"

"I – I'm not sure," I say, my fingers touching my lips where he kissed me. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

"Sasuke !" Mikoto calls from down the hallway, and I start to step away, but he catches me, his hand gripping my arm with such ferocity that I think he's going to leave a mark.

"Meet me tonight," he says.

I shake my head. "No. We can't." But I can't help but ask. "Where?"

"The guest house," he whispers. "No one is out there. We'll be alone."

Even now, four years later, when I think about that night, I can still taste that last kiss on my lips. How fucked up is that?

The phone buzzes again, the screen glowing in the dark. It's a notification from one of my social media sites, and I feel a pang of disappointment that it's not Sasuke. Opening my text messages, I re-read the last one from Sasuke: Friends with benefits?

Sasuke has some nerve asking about my dating life when he's in Las Vegas right now. He's probably texting me while some girl has her mouth wrapped around his cock.

His cock…

I glance over at the closed closet door, knowing what's behind it. Only Sasuke would gift-wrap his fucking dick. I'm sure his idea of a present is to gift-wrap the real thing. The image of Sasuke Uchiha, naked, a big red bow tied around his cock, flashes in my head, and it makes me laugh for a second. Except that it's hotter than it is funny.

Heat rushes through my body at the thought of Sasuke's touch, and I try to put him out of my head. Thoughts of Sasuke don't need to occupy my head. I might have known Sasuke years ago but a long time has passed since I last saw him, and he's changed. Hell, I've changed. Neither of us are the same people anymore.

I've matured.

When an idea pops into my head a minute later, I can't help but giggle. What I'm about to do is definitely not mature.


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Chapter 10**

**Sasuke POV**

Fuck, it's good to be back. Closing the door to the guesthouse behind me, I head straight to the bedroom. Maybe it's just my damn leg, but it's been a long time since I've been as exhausted as I am now. Parties and girls and booze used to be fun – what could be better?

Sakura never texted me back; I guess she was too busy with whoever she's dating. Well, screw that. And screw her.

Stripping off my clothes, I drop them in a pile on the floor, turning on the shower before I wander back into the bedroom. I open the bureau drawer to grab new clothes before I head up to the house for dinner and – the drawer is filled with condoms, not clothes. What the fuck? One by one, I yanked open the rest of the drawers, and it's all the same. Condoms, condoms, and more condoms, a rainbow of every color imaginable.

When I pull open the closet, a wave of condoms pours out on me. A piece of paper flutters to the floor, and I picked it up.

Wrap Your Tool

Maybe Sakura Haruno does still have a sense of humor after all.

I find myself whistling as I remove my boot and take a shower. I'm even whistling as I dig through my suitcase for clothes because I don't know where the fuck my clothes are now. Sakura could have burned a lot of everything, for all I know. I don't know what kind of nut job you'd have to be to do something like that, but I wouldn't put it past her.

I pull out my phone and send Sakura a text.

Got your present. I assume you'd like to use all of them? It's a tall order, but I think I can rise to the occasion.

I'm flipping through the channels on the television when she texts me back.

With the way you go through girls, I think you'll do just fine without any help from me.

With the way I go through girls. Shit, a couple months ago and I'd have gotten some use out of Sakura's little prank. Now, though…

I thumb absently through the contact list on my phone. There are a few chicks in my list, booty calls who've proven they can show up at 3 a.m. and leave the next day without being total psychos. I should be banging my way through this list. It's the only way to get Sakura out of my head.

I just don't know why that idea seems so fucking boring. Or why the prospect of screwing with my stepsister is so much more appealing.

When Sakura comes home from work to see me sitting in the leather armchair in her room, my feet propped up on the ottoman, reading a novel, a smile crossed her lips, but she quickly hides it. "What are you doing in my room?" Sakura asks. "Haven't you ever heard of privacy?"

"Well, that's not hypocritical of you at all, Sakura Haruno."

"I didn't linger after leaving the condoms," she says. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," I say, my gaze trailing down the length of her body. Sakura has a way of making even the most conservative outfit look sexual. She's not wearing those fuck-me boots this time, but the heels she has on make her legs look positively indecent. They're an inch too high to be appropriate office attire, putting them squarely in the category of being hot-as-fuck. Now all I can think about is her wearing nothing but those shoes.

"Long enough to what?" Sakura asks, exasperated. "What are you staring at?"

"Your shoes," I say.

She looks down at her feet, her hair falling forward, the way it did in my dream when she was on her knees. I have to shift uncomfortably in my seat at the thought of Sakura on her knees between my legs. "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing," I say. "Everything's right with them. The heels would make perfect handles."

She scrunches up her forehead, wrinkling her nose at the same time, like she's smelling something funny. I don't think she knows she does it, but it's the same thing she used to do when we were teenagers. It's cute. She kicks her foot up and looks at her heel, then back at me. "What are you talking about, handles?"

Is she playing coy, or does she literally not know what I'm getting at? "They'd make great handles, if your feet were above your head," I repeat. "Would you like a demonstration?"

I stand up and cross the room, even though she waves me down.

"Thanks for that lovely image," she says. Her face is flushed red.

"You're blushing."

"Because you're vulgar," she says.

"Keep wearing shoes like that, and don't expect me to be civilized." I'm standing so close to her that when I breathe in, I can smell the scent of her shampoo again, cookie-flavored something or other that makes me hungry.

"I don't think you can be civilized," she says. "I'm not sure you have the capacity."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I didn't mean it as one."

"I don't know," I say. "I think you like the fact that I'm vulgar."

"I think you're deluded."

"You're the one who filled my drawers with condoms," I point out. "It doesn't take Freud to figure out the meaning behind that."

Her eyes open wider. "You gave me a model of your…"

"Cock?" I shrug. "I thought it might help you visualize me better when you're touching yourself, darlin'."

"I don't visualize you at all, thank you very much," she says.

"No?" I ask, reaching up to move a strand of hair off her shoulder. My hand grazes her collarbone, and I lean in close to her, my mouth near her ear. "Well, I think about you."

When I pull away, she looks at me, her mouth open slightly. "Sasuke, I –"

"I know," I say. "We have to keep it professional."

Her expression shifts and she runs her hands down the sides of her skirt. "Professional. Yes. Exactly. We're friends. I'd like to stay friends."

"So you don't want to hear what I've thought about you, then."

"No. Definitely not."

I lean close to her, my lips near her ear. "Then I definitely won't tell you that I've thought about running my fingers along the inside of your thigh, until I reach that little crease at the top, near your pussy."

"Sasuke –" She says my name, protesting, but it's weak, and she doesn't move away. I slide my hand around her waist, to the small of her back.

"I definitely won't tell you that I've thought about the expression you'd make when I touch my fingers to your pussy lips for the first time."

"No," she says. "Don't."

But she doesn't move. I pull her tight against my growing hardness, and she puts her palms on my chest. I'm not sure if she's about to push me away or not. She doesn't look at me, and I speak softly again close to her ear. "I definitely won't tell you that I've thought about how warm and wet you'd feel, how slick you'd be as I slide my fingers inside you."

Sakura makes a sound in the bottom of her throat, something like a mix between clearing her throat and a moan. "You can't say –"

"I'm not saying anything, Sakura," I say. "Certainly not that I've thought about how you'd look riding my face."

Now she looks at me, her eyes wide. "You can't say things like that."

"Things like how I want to hold your hips down against me while you sit on my face and come on my tongue?" I whisper.

Sakura breathes in, her chest rising sharply. I can see the faintest hint of cleavage from the top of that button-down shirt she wears. There's something about the way she keeps herself entirely covered up that makes it almost as revealing as if she were standing here naked in front of me. "Yes," she says softly, her voice breathy. "Like that."

"Then I won't say any of those things." I let go of her, and step back, despite the fact that my cock is throbbing, my erection pushed so tight against the front of my jeans that it's painful. I'm so hard I'm going to explode. "But I'll think about them next door."

She does that thing with her forehead again, and scrunches up her nose. "What?" Her breath is still short, and she's standing there, with her fingertips on her lips. I need to get the hell out of here before I change my mind and rip off her fucking clothes right now.

"Oh, I forgot to mention that," I say. "While you were at work today, I moved in to the room next door."

Her eyes go wide. "You did not."

I smile broadly and lean in close to her again. "I did. So I'll be close by. In case you ever decide you need some…relief. In fact, if it helps, know that I'll be next door thinking about you when I come."

I don't wait for her response before I leave her room, shutting the door behind me.


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Chapter 11**

**Sakura POV**

I'm standing here in my room, staring at the closed door like an idiot. As if none of that just happened. As if the throbbing between my legs is nothing.

Sasuke is next door, with his hand on his cock, thinking about you.

Sasuke's bedroom door closes, and I hear him moving around his room. These walls are paper-thin. I can't believe Sasuke had the balls to move from the guesthouse to the main house – and not just the main house, but the room next door – just to mess with me. There are twelve bedrooms in this house, and Sasuke picked the one next to mine.

He definitely wants to mess with you.

I'm not sure whether I'm more turned on or irritated. After his trip to Vegas with Karin and God knows how many other girls – I can only imagine the number – Sasuke has the balls to stand here, pressed up against me, telling me what he wants to do to me.

The really filthy things he wants to do to me.

He has absolutely zero shame.

You're the one who put condoms in his room. The thought flashes in my head, and I quickly try to push it aside.

I wonder if he's actually jerking off in his bedroom. He sure didn't fake the erection that was pressed up against me when he pulled me close to him.

And there's definitely no faking the wetness between my legs. If Sasuke would have made good on his threat to slide his fingers between my thighs, he would have realized it immediately. And I'm not sure I would have protested.

I cross the bedroom to lock the door – who knows if Sasuke will return – and shed my office clothes piece by piece, unable to get Sasuke out of my thoughts. I make a valiant effort at trying to distract myself by running through all kinds of other things in my head – work stuff, my to-do list, the fucking state capitols in alphabetical order.

Anything other than thinking about Sasuke next door. Sasuke with his hand on his cock. Sasuke fantasizing about me. Sasuke on the other side of the wall, running his hand along his length like he said he would.

The throbbing between my legs becomes more insistent, and I grab a novel I've been reading, flopping onto the bed and flipping open the book, my eyes landing right on…a sex scene. I slam the book closed. Choosing a romance novel to distract myself is entirely unhelpful.

I can't stop visualizing Sasuke, naked, his hand on his cock. And there are a million damn reasons why I shouldn't be thinking about Sasuke naked. I make a mental checklist in my head: Manwhore – check. Past history with him – check. Professional relationship – check. Stepbrother – double fucking check.

Next door, Sasuke is silent. I wonder if he really jerked off. I wonder if he thought about me. I wonder if he finished already. I wonder what he looks like when he comes.

Damn it, Sakura. You have to stop.

Focus on something else.

Like the fact that my nipples are basically as hard as rocks against the fabric of my bra. And that my panties are damp.

I slide my finger down the front of my panties, thinking about what Sasuke said.

How you'd feel as I touched my fingers to your pussy lips, the expression on your face…

I slide my finger lower, between my lips, slick with wetness, the wetness Gaige is responsible for creating.

How slick you'd be as I slid my fingers inside you…

I picture Sasuke naked above me, giving me that knowing grin as he reaches between my legs, spreading my lips with his fingers and plunging them inside me. I stroked myself slowly, the way I imagine Sasuke would touch me, bringing myself higher and higher.

The thought creeps into my head – this is wrong. But I push it away. Your stepbrother is right next door.

I picture Sasuke next door, stroking himself, thinking about me as he comes. It's when I'm picturing him that I glance up at the closet door. Behind that door is Sasuke's cock, the dildo he made. I stuffed it back in that box and hid it in the closet. Do I dare?

It's not like anyone would ever know. It's probably not even Gaige's anyway. I'm a thousand percent positive it's something he bought at an adult store, so why shouldn't I use it?

I slide my hand from between my legs and go to the closet before I can change my mind, rummaging through assorted odds and ends until I find the box. Sasuke's cock.

I strip off my panties and bra and slide into the bed naked, the sheets cool against my skin. I take a long look at the dildo. I'm about to lie in bed and fuck myself with a dildo made from a mold of my stepbrother's cock, while he's right next door, jerking off while he fantasizes about me.

My life sounds like a fucking porno.

Except it isn't. I haven't gotten laid in six months. And I can't even think straight. I might be losing my mind. But I don't care, not right now, anyway.

I lay back again, pressing the head of the cock against my entrance, coating it in my wetness. I'm going to go insane if I don't come.

I stroke my clit in slow circles with my finger, sending pulses of pleasure through my body, and press my stepbrother's cock slowly inside my entrance, my muscles stretching to accommodate its girth.

I imagine Sasuke in the room next to me, thinking about me while he strokes his dick, his hand moving up and down his length, over and over. Back when we were eighteen, I tried to touch him once, slid my hand down to reach between his legs, and he grabbed my wrist to stop me. "No," he growled at me. "Not now. We'll do this right."

I never found out what doing it right meant.

But now, I picture it in my mind's eye. I imagine Sasuke thrusting his cock inside me, slowly at first as he stretches me, then picking up speed, his movements a regular rhythm that matches my hips as I arched up to meet him. Each thrust brings him deeper and deeper inside me, aided by my wetness, until I'm completely filled with him. I mimic our movements, thrusting the dildo further inside me.

"Come for me, Sakura." I picture his mouth close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "I want to feel you come on me."

I'm so close to the edge, the pent up frustration making me even more ready, filled to the hilt with the replica of Sasuke's cock inside me. I imagine Sasuke with his hand on his cock, his warm cum spilling from his dick and over his hand.

The thought pushes me over the edge, and I come hard, my whole body jerking as my muscles tighten around the dildo. I don't realize that I've made any noise until I hear knocking, and I startle, thinking it's someone at the door.

But of course it isn't. It's Sasuke .

When I cross to the other side of the room, I can hear him chuckling through the wall.

Damn it. He totally knows.


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige**

**Chapter 12**

**Sakura POV**

"It's strange that the guesthouse needed fumigating," Mikoto says. "And so suddenly, too."

I look up at Sasuke, and he winks at me, but my father and stepmother fail to notice. Mikoto seems to be cutting microscopic-sized slices off the edge of her chicken breast and my father is similarly focused on his meal. There's obvious tension between them; I wonder how long they've been having problems.

"Termites," Sasuke says, and I glare at him through narrowed eyes. The liar. "It's a good thing I noticed."

"We should probably have the main house checked for them, too," my father says, and I give Sasuke a look. I can't believe he's faking termites just to get himself into the room next to me. He's obviously a crazy person.

"I already had the guy do it," Sasuke says. "There are no problems with the main house."

"Well, thank you, Sasuke. You're really on top of things."

Mikoto laughs, the sound bitter. "On top of a termite issue," she says, her voice sharp. "Useless in every other way."

I swallow hard. I don't remember her being so...mean...to Sasukebefore.

"Mikoto, that's uncalled for," my father says, his tone warning.

"It's okay," Sasuke says. "Not all of us have the luxury of attending luncheons instead of working."

I clear my throat, trying to cut through the tension in the room. But I don't have anything to say. Luckily, my father saves me, quickly changing the subject.

"Vegas," he says. "Was it productive?"

Great. He saves me by asking the worst question ever. I definitely don't want to hear about Sasuke Vegas exploits.

Mikoto snorts. "Speaking of not working," she says. "I don't know when partying at a Vegas nightclub started to count as work."

"I feel the same way about being a human clothes hanger," Sasuke says.

Mikoto sniffs. "Modeling involves skill," she says. She sips clear liquid from a crystal tumbler that's obviously not water, and I'm pretty sure she's half in the bag already.

"Fortunately, being a washed-up model involves no skill at all," Sasuke says.

"Sasuke," my father warns. He doesn't look at Mikoto. He's unhappy; I can see the dark circles under his eyes, and the lines that crease his face, deeper than a few years ago. He's aged, and I wonder why I didn't notice it before.

"That's right. Take his side," Mikoto says, standing. She places a hand on the table to steady herself when she wobbles, but picks up her glass, bringing it to her mouth and taking a sip. Her eyes are unfocused, but she narrows them when she looks at Sasuke. "He's your investment, after all. Always protecting your investments, even the ones who are as useless as Sasuke."

I inhale sharply, looking at Sasuke, whose face is ashen. My father stands quickly, puts his hand on Mikoto's arm. "Mikoto," he says. "Perhaps you'd like to lie down."

She jerks her arm from his grasp. "Don't talk to me like a child," she says. She turns toward me and I hold my breath. "I see the way he looks at you, you know."

"Why don't you go dry out, Mother," Sasuke's voice is hard, and he doesn't look at me, but I can see his fist clenched, his knuckles white.

But she continues, turning toward me, her voice slurring. "Don't think you can fool anyone," she says. "I see you looking at Sasuke, too. He'll go through you like -"

My eyes are wide as my father cuts her off, his face red. "That's enough, Mikoto," he says, taking her arm. She jerks away from him, glass in hand and stumbles out of the doorway. My father turns toward us, shaking his head. "I apologize for her behavior."

He follows behind her, and Sasuke and I sit in silence for a minute before we hear their voices, echoing through the other end of the house before the door slams closed.

"Well." After that, I don't really know what to say. Other than that this is really fucking awkward. Sasuke doesn't even look at me. He just stares at his plate. What she said about us - about the way Sasuke looks at me, the way I look at him - runs through my head, but I put it aside, more concerned about Sasuke. Mikoto might have been critical before, but now she's just awful. "What she said about -"

"Don't worry, Sakura," he says, his voice bitter. "She's drunk. Obviously, you and I aren't looking at each other like that."

"Sasuke, that's not what I -"

But Sasuke stands up, pushes his chair back from the table, and walks out of the room, without even a second glance at me.

Damn it. That's not what I was going to say. I was going to say that what Mikoto said about him being useless wasn't true.

I sit in the dining room by myself, staring at my plate, until the cook, Chiyo, enters the room. "Is everything okay?"

"Huh?" I ask. "Oh. Yes. Everything's fine."

"With the food? It's okay?"

"Yes." I nod. "I don't think any of us are very hungry tonight."

Upstairs in my room, I open my book again, then play with my phone, but the whole time I'm wondering what Sasuke is doing next door. It's silent. Maybe he went out somewhere; I didn't hear the front door, but this place is so big, he could have left and I wouldn't have known.

I tap my finger absently on the screen of my phone until I just can't take it anymore. I can't just sit here and pretend like nothing just happened. If I were Sasuke, I'd be pissed off. And hurt.

I grab a piece of paper and a pen. I hesitate for a moment before I put the pen on the paper, then just do it. Pool? I write. Then I walk over to Sasuke's room and slide it under his door and sit back down in my room with my novel.

It's a few minutes before the piece of paper floats under the door, and I bend down to pick it up before opening the door. Sasuke stands there, that cocky grin on his face, and I look down at the paper.

I knew you wanted me.

I roll my eyes. I should have known Sasuke would take my note that way. We made out that summer by the pool. But it was also the place we talked. "Oh my God, I was feeling bad about what happened," I say. "I should have known nothing gets you down."

Sasuke shrugs. He's still smiling, but his eyes aren't. "No big deal."

"What do you mean, no big deal?" I ask. "What Mikoto said was completely uncalled for."

"So this swim," he says, ignoring me. "Will it be naked?"

I groan. "Seriously, is that all you can think about?"

"It's a simple question, Sakura," he says. "Clothed or non-clothed?"

"Never mind. You can go sit in your room by yourself."

Sasuke exhales heavily. "Whatever. Let's go."

Outside, we sit with a six-pack of beer, just like we used to do, leaning against the grotto by the pool. It all feels familiar like we're stepping right back into the place we were four years ago as if no time has passed at all. And yet, there's part of me that feels like we're strangers, that so much has happened in the past few years there's no way I could possibly know Sasuke anymore.

We sit in silence for a long time before I speak. "What your mom said about you wasn't true, you know."

Sasuke shrugs. "I've been pretty worthless the past few months, with this fucking injury anyway."

"What happened?"

"I was screwing around, doing stunts on the bike," he says.

"So how's that any different from normal?" I ask. "You were always doing that stuff."

He shrugs again and takes a sip of his beer. "Nothing," he says. "Just lost control of the back wheel and spun out. It happens. Your father was fucking pissed off, though. It was right before this big race, and I busted my leg, so I was out. He read me the riot act."

"I can see that." My father is a businessman, and I can tell that he considers Sasuke a colleague as well as a son. He'd see any extra-curricular shit Sasuke pulled as being a bad business decision, even if it's this kind of stuff that makes Sasuke popular. Stupid stunts, bar fights, dating B-grade celebrities. Basically, acting like a rock star.

"Yeah, well," he says. "Your father knew what he was getting when he bought the team."

"Yes," I laugh, shaking my head. "That much is definitely true."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means my father knows what to expect," I say. "He can't really get pissed off at you for doing shit that's part of who you are. He signed onto the brand."

"Fuck, that's what I said."

"I agree with you," I say.

Sasuke is silent for a minute, then he looks at me, his face thoughtful. "Your father was smart, putting you on me."

"What do you mean?"

"You're handling me," he says.

"I'm not handling you."

"Yeah you are," he says, giving me this look that tells me he can see straight through my bullshit. "It's okay, though. I don't mind it from you. I never did, you know."

"I don't think anyone could ever handle you, Sasuke."

Sasuke takes a long pull on his beer, studying me carefully. I feel naked under his gaze and I look away. "You had a way of doing it, you know."

I change the subject. "When do you get to take the boot off?"

"Next week. Before we leave for Japan, thank God. Traveling with this thing would be no fun at all."

"So I'll have to wait to skinny dip with you until after next week," I joke. Oh my God, I don't know why I just said that. After I was the one getting on him for making everything an innuendo.

"Are you kidding?" he asks. "I'd rip this boot off in a fucking heartbeat, break my own damn leg again myself if it meant I got to see you naked."

I laugh. "Very funny."

"You don't think I'm serious?" he asks, shaking his head.

I take another sip of my beer. "That's the problem," I say. "That does sound exactly like something you'd do."

We sit in awkward silence again, all of the unspoken stuff hanging between us. It's one thing to joke around and flirt with Sasuke, but another thing entirely to be sitting here the same way we used to. He hands me another beer.

"Your mom didn't use to be like this, did she?" I ask.

"You mean, a drunk?" he says. "You didn't notice before?"

I shake my head. "Am I blind or something? She never seemed like it."

Sasuke takes a long pull off his beer. "Nope," he says. "Pretty par for the course. That summer we were here she was in a better mood since she and Kizashi had gotten married."

"I feel..." My voice trails off. I don't know quite how I feel, actually. About anything. But about Sasuke most of all.

"Bad for your dad?" Sasuke asks.

"He doesn't look happy."

"Nope," Sasuke says. "Would you be happy, if you were him?"

"I'm so sorry, Sasuke." But I find myself tongue-tied, unable to say what I'm sorry for. I'm sorry for the way your mom treats you. I'm sorry for the way I left things between us.

"It is what it is, darlin'," he says, finally turning to look at me. The lights, dim around the pool, make the golden flecks in his eyes stand out even more. He looks at me for a long minute, then drains the rest of his beer and starts undoing his boot. "Fuck it," he says.

"What are you doing?" I ask, swallowing hard as he pulls his shirt over his head. Once he's shirtless, his bare tattoo-covered chest covered right in front of my face, I can't help but look at it.

Gaige catches me obviously staring and grins. "Come on, darlin'," he says. "Jump in."

"Put your clothes back on," I hiss. "Someone's going to see you."

Gaige shrugs. "So what?" he asks, unbuttoning his pants. I avert my eyes, focusing straight ahead. It seems somehow indecent to just stare at him, to watch him undress like he's some kind of stripper. "You think our parents are up and around in the house? This isn't the first time something like this has happened. My mother gets drunk, makes a scene. They go to their room and argue or whatever, who knows. Have makeup sex."

"Eew, Sasuke, gross." I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He's standing there in his boxer briefs. I'm not going to look at him, I tell myself. I'm not going to look at it. This is not what I had in mind when I asked him to come out to the pool. I was just going to talk to him, that's all.

"That's what every guy wants to hear when he's standing in front of a girl naked," he says.

"I was referring to our parents having sex. Wait. You're naked?" I look up, and he's still wearing his briefs.

He grins widely. "Made you look."

"Asshole."

"Cocktease," he says and walks slowly over to the pool.

"Why am I a cocktease?" I yell after him, but he ignores me, so I stand up and follow him over to the pool.

"Water's nice," he says. His feet are in the water, and at least he's still got his boxers on. That's something. If he stripped off everything and got buck naked...

"I'm not a tease," I say.

"Then you're just a prude."

"I'm not a prude, either," I say. "You don't even know me."

"Then strip. I'll even keep my boxers on."

"How magnanimous of you."

"Come on, Sakura," he says. "You know you can't use big words like that around me. I'm a dumb biker."

"Hah." I laugh because that's bullshit. Sasuke might be a biker, and maybe he's more mechanically than book inclined, but he's not stupid. "Fuck it. Fine."

"Did you just say fine, you'd fuck me?"

"Fuck it, I said. You heard me just fine. Fuck it. Fuck it." I pull my shirt over my head. "Keep your boxers on and I'll come in."

"Naked?"

"No, not naked, jackass." I unbutton my jeans and slide them down my legs. "You better be right about nobody coming out here."

He's already chest-deep in the water, then leaning back, drifting toward the grotto. "Live a fucking little, Sakura," he says. "Your father and my mother aren't coming out here, and the staff left after the dining room drama, I'm sure. It's just you and me."

I kick my jeans off, shivering in the coolness of the evening air on my skin. But the chill isn't the only reason I'm shivering. I'm shivering because I know Sasuke is looking at me. I tell myself to stop feeling self-conscious. It's not like Sasuke hasn't seen a bra and panties on a million other girls, and besides, it'd be no different than if I'd have grabbed my bikini upstairs before we came down here. I'm glad I picked these boy shorts to wear under my jeans instead of the thongs I usually wear. "It's cold."

"Then you should get in," he says. "The pool is warm. Stop standing there shivering in your underwear and jump in already."

I slide into the water, sinking up to my neck as if the water itself affords me some protection from Sasuke's gaze. We float around lazily in silence for a long time, before coming to rest side by side, our arms on the edge of the pool inside the grotto.

"Do you think our parents are going to split up?" I ask. I don't know why I ask the question. I looked at my father tonight and saw how unhappy he was.

"Would it matter?" Sasuke asks. I'm suddenly aware of how close we are to each other, side by side like this. The distance between us feels like nothing.

"No," I say. "Why would it?"

"We wouldn't be siblings anymore," he says.

"We aren't now, Gaige."

"Then it doesn't matter now." He's looking at me, in my eyes, and then down at my lips. I realize I'm holding my breath, waiting for something, I don't know what.

That's a lie. I know exactly what I'm waiting for.

Him to make a move.


	14. Update

Hey apologies to everyone who wants a update on the stories I've posted, I'm a senior highschool student so school has been stressing trying to get into university and such. But I have not abandoned anything yet and I will be updating within the next 3 weeks cause covid-19 has given me some free time. Thanks :)


	15. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Chapter 13

Sasuke POV

I'm standing in the water, facing Sakura, looking at her under the soft lights that illuminate the darkness of the grotto area, the lights that bounce off the water, and create this shimmery effect. Sakura's hair tumbles down her shoulders in waves, the ends floating in the water around her.

I consider kissing her, and the instant the thought crosses my mind, I'm as hard as a fucking rock, my cock standing at attention in the pool. Sakura opens her mouth like she's going to say something, and then closes it again.

"Don't," I warn.

"Don't what?" She scrunches her forehead, and there's something about that expression, so familiar, that pushes me over the edge. We're the old Sakura and the old Sasuke. I don't want to think about any other bullshit.

I reach out, my hands on her arms, and lift her easily in the water, turning her and pressing her back up against the edge of the pool. She looks up at me, her face this mixture of lust and something I can't quite place. "Don't say anything," I tell her.

"Why?" she asks, and her voice is breathy. I don't want to listen to anything else. I silence her with my mouth, bringing my lips down hard against hers, and she whimpers as she melts into me. The minute my lips touched hers, the minute my hands are on her body, caressing her soft skin, I feel like I'm back there again with her. Her tongue finds mine, hesitating at first.

Then she moans into my mouth, and I'm fucking done.

I push her hard against the side of the pool, reaching up and threading my fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her toward my mouth.

I want to devour this fucking girl.

I kiss her so hard that when I finally draw away from her, she gasps for air. I'm still holding onto her hair, yanking it so that her face is angled up toward me.

Her mouth falls open, and she flicks her tongue over her lower lip, still plump from the kiss. Her chest rises and falls, and holy shit I want to put my mouth on her tits. I think my goddamn heart is going to pound right out of my chest, I want her so bad.

This is how people have heart attacks, I think. I don't even have my cock in her and I feel like my fucking heart is about to explode.

"Sakura, this can't - "

I put my finger over her lips. Shit, those lips. I imagine her opening those lips and wrapping them around the end of my finger. My cock might actually explode if I think about anything else she might do with those lips. "Sssh," I tell her. "Whatever's going through that brain of yours, turn it off."

"But we -"

I press more firmly with my finger, looking into her eyes as I move it lower, over her chin, down her neck, and then in between her breasts. Her eyes flutter closed, and I trace my finger over the tops of her mounds, leaning close to her and touching the tip of my tongue to her earlobe. I nip the edge of her earlobe gently, pulling it into my mouth, and cup her breast with my hand as she arches against my palm.

"Oh God," she whispers.

"I want to hear you say that over and over," I tell her. I lower my voice to a whisper, my mouth close to her ear, as she runs her hand across my abdomen. "I want to run my tongue over every goddamned inch of your body. I want to plunge my cock into that sweet pussy of yours until you're fucking breathless."

Her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me, her expression one of unbridled lust. "Sakura, I - we - I don't know."

"Do I need to kiss you again, so that you do know?" I ask. I slide the palm of my hand over her abdomen and then between her legs, and she grabs my wrist, wrapping her hand around it just as my fingers land on her clit. I watch her facial expression change as I apply pressure to it, slow movements. I can't fucking believe my hand is between her legs. "Or do I need to put my mouth on your pussy instead?"

And, just like that, she pulls my wrist away, shakes her head like she's shaking off some kind of bad dream. "We can't, Sasuke."

Sakura is trying to step away from me, but I grab her arm. "What is the deal with you?" My voice comes out more irritated-sounding than I mean it, but shit, I'm worked up.

"You're asking what's the deal with me?" she asks. "Just because I don't want to screw you in the pool? Let go of me."

"You're hot one second and cold the next, so yeah, what's the fucking deal?"

She jerks her arm away. "The fucking deal is that we can't, okay?" she says. "It's not a good idea."

"Because of the sibling thing?" Sakura has already turned around and stepped out of the pool, wrapping herself in a towel. "Don't worry, our parents are a colossal train-wreck anyway."

"No, okay?" she says, rubbing the towel along the length of her body. "Because of of...reasons."

"Reasons." I get out of the water and yanked a towel out of the basket by the pool, irritated at myself for even messing with this girl. "You've got reasons. That's something, Sakura."

"I can have whatever reasons I want for not going further with you," she says, toweling off her hair. Her nipples are hard underneath the fabric of her bra, and even in the chill of the air, my cock strains against the fabric of my boxers.

Fuck it. I strip them off, right in front of her.

"What are you doing?" she asks. But she looks at me, mouth agape like I knew she would. I stand there for a second before I start drying myself off again.

"I'm getting myself dried off so I can put my clothes back on and go up to bed, Sakura," I say. "What are you doing?"

She sets her jaw, brings her gaze upward. "I'm doing the same."

"I wouldn't want to interfere with your reasons for not wanting to mess with me," I say. "Since you're trying to keep it professional and all. I mean, obviously, the large quantities of condoms you deposited in my room were extremely professional."

"Damn it," she says. "That's not what it is at all."

I pull on my jeans, sans boxers, and zip them up, while she stood there shivering, her towel wrapped around her. I bend down to pick up my t-shirt. "You can take your wet clothes off, Sakura," I say. "You don't have to worry your pretty little head about me looking at you. I have no desire to hook up with someone who doesn't want me."

Sakura turns around, shimmying out of her panties and bra, the towel still wrapped around her body as if she has to shield herself from my view because I'm the one who was all over her, completely and entirely unwanted, and she was the one who had zero interest in me. Like she wasn't moaning into me. If my fingers had made it an inch further, I know that I'd have found that she was soaked. I don't know why she's denying it.

Sakura groans her frustration. "That's not what I said, Sasuke," she says. "I didn't say I don't want -"

"Don't worry," I say. "It's done. That ship has sailed." When I finally finish getting the boot back on, I toss the empty bottles in the trash without giving Sakura a second glance.

"Fine," I hear her say.

"Fine." I walk out, letting the gate door close as if I'm not giving her another moment's thought.

Except that's exactly the opposite of the truth. Sakura is all I can think about. I go up to my room to change, now regretting the fact that I just had the guesthouse fake-fumigated, and head to the gym to pound out a workout.

I just don't get what the deal is with her. I've never understood her. One minute she's practically panting in my arms, and then next she's prickly like a damn porcupine.


	16. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Chapter 14.

Sakura POV

I've fucked things up with Sasuke. We were getting along, and then he had to go and kiss me. Or, rather, then I had to go and strip down and get into the pool with him. What else did I think was going to happen? I knew exactly what I wanted to happen.

But when he was telling me what he wanted to do to me, I froze. I couldn't help but think about what would happen if I went through with it. I won't be another notch on Sasuke's bedpost. I can't. Not with how I felt about him before.

It's been almost two weeks since I've even seen him, which is pretty much unimaginable, given the fact that we're living in the same house. At least I think we are. The tent is off the guesthouse, so I suppose he could have already moved back in. He hasn't even shown up at the office, not that I expected him to.

"Hey, Earth to Sakura," Sai says. "I said, are you going to go out with him?"

"Who?" I ask.

"Who?" he repeats. "Who is that hot guy who was just talking to us, the one I was basically carrying the conversation with, by the way. What's the point of even going to happy hour to pick up guys if you're not going to make an effort? He left you his card."

"Sorry," I say. "I'm just distracted."

"No shit. Distracted by who, is the question?"

"No one," I lie. "Maybe the card was for you."

"No, that boy – Gaara–" he says, picking up the card and reading the name. "Is straight as an arrow. Which is just my luck, too. But you're in greater need than I am. You're going to grow cobwebs down there if you don't dust that thing off and get some."

"Shut up," I protest. "There are no cobwebs growing on my vag, thank you very much."

"When's the last time you got laid?"

"None of your business!"

"Six months ago," Sai says. " Sasori. Did you even have any rebound sex after you broke up with him?" He looks at me accusingly.

I glance at the card from the guy who left it. I can't even remember what he looked like, and it's only been a few minutes since he left. Sai is texting on my phone, and he sets it down, looking at me triumphantly when he's finished. "What?" I ask.

"Done. Tomorrow, six p.m. Drinks here. With Gaara."

"What?" I squeak. "You can't do that."

"Done," he says. "And you're too polite to cancel. You need to get out."

"I'm leaving for Kirigakure in a few weeks," I say. "I don't need to date anyone."

"No," he says, sipping his cocktail. "You need to get laid."

"You're one to talk," I say. "How long has it been for you?"

"Last night."

"What? No way."

"Honey, I understand the importance of the one night stand," he says. "Something you apparently don't."

I open my mouth, the incident with Sasuke in the pool on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell him. Sai always knows what to do with these kinds of things.

Shit, I know what Sai would tell me to do. He'd tell me to ride Sasuke like a cowgirl and then make sure to spill all the details later.

\--

Gaara, my date, is talking to me over cocktails. He's cute. Okay, he's totally hot. With red hair and blue eyes, he looks like he stepped off the pages of a magazine. The thick suna accent doesn't make him any less attractive, either. Except when he calls me "darlin'," and it makes me think of Sasuke .

And Gaara is nothing like Sasuke . He seems nice. He hangs on my every word, and laughs, and brushes his hand casually on my arm.

When he touches me, I wait for something to strike – fireworks, electricity, some kind of spark – the way it does when Sasuke brushes his fingers along my skin, but it doesn't. But I tell myself that my ex-boyfriend Sasori was the same way – a slow burn, no immediate spark -- but it turned into something over time. Sort of. We never really had a lot of passion, even after a year together. And it didn't exactly end well. Sasori wound up cheating on me with my ex-roommate, so that relationship isn't the best example, I guess.

But Gaara is sweet. He seems kind. Like a Labrador.

And my mind is drifting the entire time he's talking. What's he saying, again? He's asking me a question, and it takes me a minute to figure it out. He's asking about my work. Shit, I'm supposed to be talking. "I'm sorry, I missed that," I say.

"I was asking about your trip," he says. "You mentioned Kirigakure."

"Oh, yeah, next week," I say. "I'll be there for a few weeks. I'm basically being sent to manage my stepbrother, Sasuke. He's a motorcycle racer – you know those sport bikes? That's what he does."

"Sounds dangerous," Gaara says.

"Kirigakure?" I ask. "No, it's the opposite, actually. It's really quite safe."

Gaara laughs. "I meant the bike racing."

"Oh, yeah." I roll my eyes. "Especially when you like to pull dumb stunts the way Sasuke does." My phone buzzes, and I take it out of my purse. "Excuse me for a second."

Where are you?

I recognize Sasuke's number immediately but ignore it, setting the phone down on the table. He's been avoiding me, yet picks now as the appropriate time to text? Yeah, right.

"Sorry about that," I say. "So, being an accountant sounds interesting." I'm lying. I take another sip of my margarita.

Gaara is saying something about his job, and when my phone buzzes again, I'm honestly grateful for the distraction. I should be hanging on every word that comes out of Gaara's adorable mouth, except I'm not.

What are you doing right now?

Gaara is still talking, and I nod along, making encouraging sounds while I text back.

None of your business. You?

I set the phone down. Two seconds later, it buzzes.

Are you alone?

I text back.

Yes.

It buzzes again. Damn it.

Liar.

I'm annoyed with Sasuke for interrupting my date, and I know I should turn off the phone, but I don't. Instead, I excused myself to use the restroom, leaving Gaara watching a sports game on the row of televisions behind me, and text on my way.

You've left me alone forever now. Why are you texting me? Are you bored?

I've only made it through the bathroom door when it buzzes again.

Maybe I've just finally recovered from the worst case of blue balls known to man.

I feel a perverse mix of guilt and satisfaction when I read his text message. How can I even respond to that? Sorry about your balls? Hope they haven't fallen off? I wonder if they make a greeting card for that occasion.

I'm sure you found someone to assist you.

I'm washing my hands and fixing my hair in the mirror when he texts again.

So are you in your room? Or are you having a happy hour date?

I stare at his text. Why does Sasuke seem to have this sixth sense about me? It's so annoying. Well, I'm not going to outright lie. I turn the phone off and stick it in my purse without responding.

I'm weaving and winding my way back through the crowd in the bar to my table. "Sorry, I –" I stop short when I realize Gaara is no longer sitting at my table.

Sasuke is in his seat, looking at me with raised eyebrows. "You didn't respond to my text," he says, looking up. I turn to see the waitress behind me, with a beer in hand that Sasuke accepts.

"Where's Gaara?" I demand.

Sasuke takes a sip of his beer. "Gaara decided to cut the date short," he says.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," he says, with a look of smug satisfaction.

"You were in the –" I start to say, looking around for Gaara, but not seeing him anywhere. "Did you really just run off my – "

"Your what, Sakura?" he asks. "Your date?"

"Fine," I say. "I'm on a date. I was on a date. With a nice guy. Before you showed up and ruined it."

"Oh yeah," he says. "It looked like it was going really well. You gazing off into the distance, leaving him to fend for himself. Trust me, he was glad to be let off the hook."

"What did you do?"

Sasuke shrugs. "I told him you were already taken."

"You told him I was taken." My brain refuses to process this information, so instead I just stand there staring at Sasuke like he's speaking in a foreign language.

Sasuke sips his beer. "Taken."

"Taken by who, exactly?" I ask. Then I pause. "No, never mind. I don't even want to know the answer to that question. Did you fucking follow me here?" I ask, my voice rising in pitch. Someone looks over at me, and I lower it, aware I'm about to cause a scene. Or I am causing a scene. We look like a couple having an argument. "Have you been listening to my date? Did you bug me or something?"

Sasuke laughs. "Seriously, you think I bugged you? Listen to yourself, Sakura."

"That's it," I say. "I don't even care what you did. I'm totally out of here." I dig in my purse for cash, and slap enough down on the table to cover my bill, refusing to even make any eye contact with Sasuke before I storm out the door. He doesn't follow me out of the bar.

Back at home, I'm still furious with him, but I have no one to vent to. I start to call Sai, but what the hell kind of explanation can I give him for my stepbrother's ridiculousness? Sai texts to ask me how the date with Gaara went, but I ignore him. Instead, I turn on the music and take a bath, trying to tune out everything else. I can't believe Sasuke , going in there and acting like some kind of caveman, telling Gaara to leave.

Why are you pissed? He did what you yourself wanted to do to Gaara– he told him to get lost. I know the nagging little voice in my head is absolutely true. But even so, he had no right to do it.

I'm not even relaxed after a hot bath. I'm still irritated. And Sasuke isn't next door, or if he is, he's been super stealthy about sneaking into his room. I slip into a pair of comfy pants and a tank top and grab my novel to head up to the roof, to the sunroom.

My father's estate is a sprawling, Texas-sized mansion on twenty acres. I told my father it was ridiculous when he bought it. The house itself is a monstrosity with too many rooms to count – I think thirty or something – and he bought it the year before he and Mikoto got married. My mother had custody of me since she split with my father, and we lived in SunaYork after that, with me spending summers with my father, in the less ostentatious house he had before this one.

All that changed my sophomore year of high school when he bought this place. I hate everything about the house.

Except for the sunroom. Mikoto calls it the solarium, because sunroom is apparently not the correct fancy word for it. It's enclosed in glass on the rooftop, like a greenhouse, filled with tropical leafy plants and lots of chairs for sitting. Mikoto says it makes her allergies crazy. But I love it.

I pop into the kitchen on the way, startling the cook, Chiyo, who insists on making me a cup of tea, even though I insist I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. She also insists on preparing dinner for me, finally acquiescing to leave something in the refrigerator, since there's no one else in the house. My father and Mikoto are gone tonight, some business thing with foreign investors. My father is entertaining, Suna contacts, I think. Chiyo tries to protest when I send her and the housekeeper home, but if at this point in my life I can't fend for myself, that'd be pretty messed up.

I set my tea down on this little table beside one of the lounges and stretch out on my stomach, my novel in front of me. No cell phone and no one around. Now hopefully, Sasuke will stay gone.

My luck in the Sasuke's department lasts for all of thirty minutes before he's standing right in the doorway in front of me. "Getting rid of my date wasn't enough screwing around with my life earlier?" I ask. "You came back for more?"

"I came back for more." The way he looks at me, like he's hungry, makes that statement drip with innuendo. Damn it, why does Sasuke have to look so irresistible?

I sit up and cross my arms over my chest. "So you're no longer just fucking around with me? You're screwing around with my dating life too?"

"Oh, please," he says. "You should be thanking me."

"I should be thanking you?" I can already feel myself getting more irritated, my voice rising. At least I don't have to keep it down now, since no one is here but us. "For acting like a total Neanderthal and sending my date home?"

"You weren't into him anyway, so don't act like I didn't do you a favor by getting rid of the guy," he says. "You could have at least stayed and finished your drink with me like a civilized person."

I jump to my feet. "Civilized, huh?"

Sasuke nods, the edges of his mouth curved up in a smile. "There's no excuse for poor manners, Sakura."

I think I might have to clock him across the head with a vase. I can see the headline now: Sasuke Uchiha, Murdered by Stepsister in Completely Reasonable act of Aggression. I'm almost positive the cops would understand.

Sasuke's stupid voice interrupts my fantasy. "What, you're tongue-tied now?"

"I'm thinking of ways to dispose of your body."

"You should be more grateful," he says. "I got you out of a boring situation with a boring guy – come on, Sakura, he's a fucking accountant – and I don't even get a simple thank you."

"He was nice." I say. Why is he suddenly so close to me? I put my hands on his chest, and shove him back.

Sasuke reaches for me, his hands wrapped around both of my wrists. "And I'm not nice. You don't want someone nice," he says, his voice guttural, like a growl.

"Let go of me," I say through gritted teeth. "You have no idea what I need."

He pulls me against him, hands tight on my wrists. "You're a damn liar, Sakura."

"Screw you." My blood is thumping in my ears, adrenaline coursing through my body. He's so close to me, lips near mine, that I can practically taste him.

"You want someone who's going to tell you exactly what he wants to do to you. Someone who will tell you exactly what he wants you to do to him. That's what you need."

"No." I shake my head, but his grip on me loosens, and then he lets go of my wrists. I could step back and walk away, but I don't. I just stand there, my feet rooted to the ground.

Sasuke doesn't touch me. He steps close to me, his body nearly touching mine, and whispers in my ear, his warm breath against my skin. "I keep thinking about that night by the pool."

"Don't, Sasuke ," I warn, but my voice falters. All I can think about is the practically magnetic pull of my body toward his. But I don't want to move.

He walks, slowly, his movement languid, behind me, and then pauses. He still doesn't touch me, but I can feel his warm breath on my neck, and it makes me shiver. "Do you know what I keep thinking about, more than anything?" he asks.

"No," I whisper. I should step away, walk out the door. I should do the smart thing. The reasonable thing. The safe thing.

"I keep thinking about how I wanted to lift you out of the pool and set you on the edge, then put my face between those thighs and bury it in that sweet pussy of yours."

"Sasuke –" I pause, nothing to say. I don't know why I'm constantly being surprised by the shit that comes out of his mouth.

"And you want me to," he says. Then I feel his finger on the back of my neck, slowly tracing down the middle of my back, and I shudder. Every part of my body feels sensitive, as if Sasuke has flipped some kind of switch inside me, putting everything on hyper-alert. He walks around to the front of me, his face close to mine. "Say you want me, Sakura."

"No." I don't know why I tell him no, when I'm standing here and my body is screaming yes.

"No?" he asks. His gaze falls lower, down to my chest, and I know he can see my nipples hard against the fabric of my shirt. If he were to reach between my legs – oh God, I want him to reach between my legs – he'd know I'm wet. "So if I got down on my knees and touched my tongue to you, you wouldn't be the least bit wet?"

I don't answer, and Sasuke keeps his eyes trained on mine as he trails his finger down the front of my shirt, between my breasts, then across the satiny fabric until he reaches my nipple, rolling his fingers around it, and sending arousal coursing through my body. "I don't – someone could see us."

That isn't true, and we both know it – my father's estate is huge, and there are no neighbors watching. And thanks to me, no more staff at the house tonight. Of course, it's not like our parents couldn't come home at any time.

"It's you and me, darlin'," he says. "Say yes." He slides his finger down the front of my shirt, taking away his glorious touch from my nipples. I want to tell him to put his hand back there, but I don't.

He traces his finger along my abdomen, inches it down the waistband of my pants, where they're slung low on my hips, until he reaches the top of my bikini line. "No panties, either?"

I shake my head, suddenly mute. My head is clouded by arousal. "No panties."

Sasuke curses under his breath, and takes my hand, placing it on the front of his jeans. "Just so you know," he says. "That's the fucking effect you have on me."

His cock is hard underneath the fabric, and I can't take it anymore. I can't think clearly about the consequences of whatever is happening with us, and I just don't want to. I yanked his shirt up over his head, and then reach for his belt, unbuckling it as I look him in the eye. "This doesn't mean we're friends," I say.

"Hn, Trust me," he says. "The last thing on this damn earth I want to be is your friend."


	17. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

This chapter is Nsfw/18.

Sasuke POV

Sakura doesn't take her eyes off mine, and I watch as something changes in her expression. A look of resolve, I think. She reaches inside my pants and wraps her hand around my cock. "Then what do you want?" she asks. Her voice is low, breathy, and she looks up at me, her eyes wide.

"I want whatever the hell makes you keep doing what you're doing," I say as she slides her hand up my shaft, her touch light as a feather. When she reaches the tip, she stops, her thumb rolling over the surface of the head, finding the tiny drop of pre-cum that beads at the tip.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Sasuke" she whispers. "I don't know what we're doing."

"You're always too much in your head, darlin'," I say, kicking off my shoes and sliding my jeans down over my ass. "So just stop thinking. Take off those fucking clothes before I tear them off you."

Sakura's eyes get big again. "Do you just order women around like that?" she asks. "Is that your thing?"

"My thing? Fuck. I'm naked and you're still standing there talking," I say. "I will rip your clothes off. Try me. It's not an idle threat."

"So girls just do what you tell them to do?" she asks. But both of her hands are on the hem of that silky-as-hell shirt of hers, paused as if she's deciding whether or not to strip. I'm going to make that decision real fucking easy, because I'm not playing any more.

"Stop talking," I say, my hand on the base of my cock. "Take. Off. Your. Goddamn. Clothes. Now." I punctuate each word for emphasis, and I swear to all that is holy, I am very close to tearing open her clothes like a wild animal. I've waited long enough for her. Four years. Four years and three months. Four years and three months and nine days.

Sakura starts to lift her shirt, but she's too slow, and I reach for the material, yanking it over her head in one swoop. Her hair spills down her shoulders, strands tumbling down her breasts. Taking a handful of hair at the nape of her neck, I yank her roughly against my hardness. When she moans, it's almost my undoing.

I kiss her, and it's nothing like the other times I've put my lips against hers. All of those kisses were just a prelude to this. This is the real deal. That rush I get when I'm racing is like nothing compared to my tongue in Sakura's mouth, my hand cupping her breast and feeling her melt against me. It sends adrenaline coursing through my veins, the rush of arousal better than any other high in the world.

Sakura gasps when I finally take my mouth off hers. "Hell, Sasuke," she whispers, putting her fingers to her lips.

"Shit, you ain't seen nothing yet, darlin'," I tell her. It's part promise and part warning. I'm not sure what this girl is going to do to me. I think she might fucking destroy me.

Before she can protest, I yank her pants down at the sides, and they fall loosely to the floor. Sitting down on the chaise, I pull her toward me.

"I don't have any condoms," she says, her voice soft.

I raise my eyebrows. "That's surprising, darlin'," I say. "Since you bought them in bulk for your little prank. But don't worry -- I've got some. Besides, I don't want you on my cock yet. I want you on my face."

"Oh," she says, and she blushes. She's standing here stark naked in front of me, but me telling her to sit on my face is what makes her blush. That's irony.

"Get over here," I ordered. "I want you on my cock, but after four years of imagining what you taste like, I want you to ride my face first. I'm going to bury my tongue inside you."

"Sasuke, you're so –"

"Don't even say it," I growl. "I already know what you're going to say. Arrogant, cocky, such a dick?"

She blushes, and it makes me want to see if she does the same when she comes for me. It makes me want to see if she continues to feel self-conscious, or if she loses her inhibitions and lets go. Starting with her riding me until she comes all over my face. "That's not what I was going to say."

"Stop fucking talking," I order. "Now I'm going to lie back here, and you're going to climb up on top of me and put your pussy on my face. Before I have to tell you again."

Sakura blushes, but she does exactly what I tell her, bringing her knees up on either side of my legs, and straddling me. I slide down, leaning back on the padded arm of the chaise, and pause for a minute, her pussy directly in front of my face. When I breathe in her scent, my cock goes so rigid I think it might explode. I've never come just from eating a girl out, but there's a distinct possibility of that happening with Sakura.

Up close, I can see how fucking wet she is and that fact alone makes me practically lose my mind. She might pretend she's all professional and disinterested, but the shimmer of her wetness between her legs tells me otherwise. When I touch the tip of my tongue to her pussy, she moans, the sound almost painful.

"Oh my God, Sasuke," she whispers.

That pushes me over the edge. Grasping her ass cheeks, I pull her down hard, smothering my face with her. My tongue explores every inch of her sweet pussy, and I take my time licking her. Fuck, I don't just lick her. I devour her. I eat her like a starving man, because that's what I have been until this very moment. I didn't know how hungry I was until right now.

Sakura's breath comes in gasps, shorter and shorter, and she grinds herself against my face like she's riding a bucking bronco. When I fuck her with my tongue, she rides me harder, her fingers gripping my hair as she grinds her pussy harder and harder against me, her rhythm becoming more erratic. I spread her ass cheeks and pressed my finger against her asshole while I thrust my tongue inside her as far as I can.

"Sasuke. Sasuke. Sasuke." She's moaning my name, and I know she's about to lose control. So I put my hands on her waist and pull her off my face and stand her up beside the chaise before she can even say another word. Especially after the incident at the pool, she deserves to ache for me. "Not so fast, darlin'," I tell her.

Sakura groans. "What?"

"You think I'm going to let you come that easily?" I ask, shaking my head. "Especially after that massive case of blue balls you left me with before?"

"I'm so…" Her voice trails off, her breath short. Her breasts move up and down as she gasps.

"Close?" I ask. "Good. Now get on your knees, back up on the lounge, the same direction you were facing when you rode me."

She gives me a look. "You're so fucking bossy."

"Don't pretend like you don't like it, sweetheart," I say, slapping her hard on the ass. I watch her ass jiggle, and her breasts sway. I've never really been into the whole spanking thing, but shit, it's fucking hot having her like this, on her hands and knees. Hell, it's hot telling her what to do and having her actually do it.

"Did you just spank me?" Sakura looks surprised, but she giggles.

"I'm going to do more than just spank you if you keep laughing like that." I don't know why, but I like riling her up.

"Like what?" she asks. She grins like she's daring me.

I slap her on the ass, so hard it leaves a handprint this time, and Sakura moans. She actually moans. She likes it. Shit. I knew this girl was going to be the death of me once I got her naked. "You like that?"

"Yes," she whispers. I can barely hear her, so I slap her ass again, watching her breasts move.

"Say it louder." I do it again.

"Yes."

I run my hand over her ass cheek, and then reach between her legs, my fingers touching her wetness. Her pussy lips are swollen, and I imagine her pussy is throbbing just about as hard as my cock is now. When I withdraw my fingers, she whimpers. I walk around to the arm of the chaise, where her hands are placed, and stand in front of her.

My cock is near her face, and she opens her mouth immediately, like it's a reflexive action, my cock in front of her face and she automatically opens up.

I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful in my entire life. She's like a piece of fucking art, paused there for a moment with her tongue nearly touching my cock.

I watch, enraptured, as she catches the strand of pre-cum hanging from the tip of my cock, following it up until she reaches the head, where she presses her tongue to the tip. The light touch is not nearly enough, and I grab the entire length of her hair, wrapping it around my fist as I jerk her toward me. She moans as she takes me in, her warm mouth enveloping me, inch by inch, making these little noises that send vibrations through my cock.

"That's right," I encourage her. "Your mouth is so fucking hot."

She wraps one hand around the base of my shaft, pumping me while she sucks at me greedily, and I watch her, refusing to close my eyes for a moment, even when it's making me so close I think I'm going to come. Eventually it's too much, her looking at me with those big eyes and her mouth full of my dick, and I can't take it anymore.

I rip her away from me.

"What's wrong?" she asks. "Was that not okay?"

"Shit, are you kidding?" I ask, bending over to grab a condom from the pocket of my jeans, crumpled into a heap on the floor. Lightning fast, I'm ripping open the condom wrapper with my teeth, and rolling it on. I pull her up to her feet, standing so that she's facing me, and I press my cock against her skin while I run my hands along her body. With my hand at the nape of her neck, I kiss her softly, pulling her bottom lip between my teeth. "I was about to fill this sweet little mouth of yours up with cum."

She makes this little whimpering sound and I reach between her legs to find that she's soaked. "Oh," she says.

"Oh?" I ask, sliding two fingers inside her. "Is that what you wanted? You wanted me to come in that pretty mouth?"

Sakura exhales forcefully. "Yes," she says. "I wanted to taste it."

Hearing that she wanted to taste my cum makes me crazy. I slide my fingers from her, and drag her down with me in the lounge. She kneels astride me, her forehead pressed up against mine, her hair falling down around our faces like a curtain. I tease her entrance with the head of my cock, and she sinks down onto it, letting out this low moan. "Shit, you're tight."

"Shit, you're…not small," she whispers. I start to laugh, but then she's riding me, and I'm too busy wrapping my lips around her breast to think about anything except the fact that Sakura is fucking me, grinding into me as she takes me deeper and deeper, her already tight pussy swelling around me as she becomes more aroused. I love being inside her, and all I can hear is her moaning, whimpering louder and louder as she begins to lose control. I grip her ass cheeks as I pull her down harder on me until she's throwing her head back and calling my name.

"Oh God, Sasuke, I'm so close." When she pulls my face against her breast, I suck her nipple so hard I swear I'm going to bruise her. And when I press my finger against her asshole, she cries out, something that sounds more like a scream. Then she comes, her muscles clenching around my cock, in a series of spasms that sends me over the edge and milks every last drop of cum from me.

Afterward, I sink back against the back of the lounge, closing my eyes and waiting for my heart rate to come back down to normal instead of where it's at right now, which is at a beat-out-of-my-damn-chest level. I am probably dangerously close to having some kind of cardiac event.

All because of Sakura.

Wants-to-be-professional Sakura.

Wants-me-to-cum-in-her-mouth Sakura.

My stepsister Sakura.


	18. 16

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

.

Sakura POV

I open my eyes, half-expecting that when I do, this will all have been a dream. Or a nightmare, I'm not sure. Did I really just take off my clothes and ride Sasuke on the roof of the house? The sunroom is completely transparent, encased in glass, for shit's sake, and I'm sitting here with Sasuke's cock still inside me.

When I open my eyes, I'm looking into Sasuke's. "Hi," he says, and his mouth turns up at the corners, that shit-eating-grin on his face. Damn it, I just know that he's going to be impossible to live with now. He's going to think I want him all the time. I feel obligated to let him know that is definitely not going to be the case.

"I hope you don't think this means anything is different between us," I say. Crap, that came out wrong. It sounds totally bitchy.

But Sasuke laughs. "Whatever you say, darlin'," he says. "You want to pretend like you're not lusting after me all the time, go right ahead."

"See, I knew that's what you'd think if we ever hooked up." I slide off of him, feeling incredibly awkward standing there naked, and scramble around for my clothes, scurrying back into them as quickly as I can.

Sasuke stands there looking around, buck naked, holding the used condom in his hand. "I don't suppose there's any discrete way of throwing this out, is there?"

"Oh my God, no," I say. "Not up here. You want the staff knowing we screwed?"

"I'm sure your father has hidden cameras or something in the house," Sasuke says, his voice calm.

"No way," I say, my heart beating wildly in my chest. "Oh my God. You don't think he does, do you?"

Sasuke laughs. "Relax, darlin'," he says. "It's our dirty little secret." Then I watch as he puts the condom in my teacup.

"Did you just put that in my cup?" I ask, my voice like two octaves higher than its normal pitch. "That's the grossest thing I've ever seen."

Sasuke shrugs. "You'd rather I carry it through the house to the bathroom?" he asks. "The cup's empty. Get rid of it in the bathroom. Don't be such a priss."

"I'm not being a priss," I say, bristling at his attitude. Did he really just say this was our dirty little secret? I mean, I don't want him to shout it from the rooftops, but shit, he's acting like he's all embarrassed to have screwed me. This is more awkward than I thought it would be. "And you don't have to worry. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"I sure as fuck hope not," he says, pulling his t-shirt on over his head. He winks at me, obviously meaning it in the lewdest way possible. "I kind of liked it when it was open."

I can feel my face flush warm, and try to hide it by leaning over to grab my novel, but Sasuke sees it.

"You're blushing," he points out helpfully. "It's cute."

Of course that makes me blush even deeper. "Cute," I say. "I can't believe I heard the word cute come out of Sasuke Uchiha's mouth."

He raises his eyebrows as he walks past me, teacup in his hand. "Stick around, darlin'," he says. "I just might surprise you."

Sasuke does surprise me, a few minutes later, after I've retreated to my room. I'm undressed and about to step in the shower when his voice makes me nearly jump out of my skin. "Hey."

"Shit, you scared the crap out of me. What, are you no longer knocking now?"

"Touchy, touchy," he says. He's grining. He's fucking pleased with himself, so I slap his arm playfully. "Careful, darlin', I remember how you liked the spanking I gave you earlier."

"What are you doing here?" I ask. "You know our parents aren't going to be out all night."

"What, you think they're going to check our rooms for us?" he asks. "We're not sixteen."

"They could hear," I say, swatting his hand away as it slides up my leg.

"Only if you're as loud as you were in the sunroom," Sasuke says. I feel myself flush, and Sasuke laughs. "Don't feel bad. I'd be that loud if I were having the best sex of my life, too."

"You're full of yourself," I say. "I'm getting in the shower."

"I never pretended to be humble," Sasuke says, stepping around me and into the shower without even asking. "Are you going to join me, or what?"

"Are you always this annoying after sex?" But I step inside, closing my eyes as the water runs over my head and down my body. I brush away the water on my face, opening my eyes to see Sasuke watching me.

"I don't know," he says.

"You don't know what?"

"I don't know how I am after sex." He applies body wash to his hands, then rubs his hands over my shoulders and along my arms, working up a lather on my skin.

I shouldn't be showering with Sasuke. I mean, I definitely shouldn't have done what we did earlier in the sunroom either, but I really shouldn't be prolonging things. What happened in the sunroom was crazy, my mind snapping and me losing all sense of reason and propriety. But my sanity is back now.

At least, my sanity is back until his hands are roaming over my breasts, my skin slick. And until I look at his well-defined chest muscles right in front of me. Then I think I lose my mind again. I reach out and touch him, running my fingers down his abdomen. "What do you mean, you don't know how you are after sex?" Sasuke shrugs. "I don't usually stick around long enough to find out what chicks think after sex."

"Chicks?" I ask. But I'm still smiling. "You really are a pig, aren't you?" If he doesn't stick around after sex, why the hell is he here?

Sasuke smirks. "Oink, oink," he says.

"That's hot. At least you're honest."

"Want to hear some more honesty?" he asks, his finger tracing around my nipples, one and then the other. Heat rushes through my body at his touch and I find myself wanting him back between my legs. Damn it. It's like we didn't just have sex minutes ago.

One time is a mistake, I think. Twice…well, that's something else entirely.

"Why are you here?" I ask him.

Sasuke takes my hand and wraps it around his cock. "Because you make me so fucking hard I can't think straight," he says. "Because I spent a whole summer four years ago hanging out with you all the time, and thinking every day how it would feel to have your lips wrapped around my cock. Today was the first time I got to feel them."

"You spent a whole summer thinking about me blowing you?" I stroke him lightly, my hand running down his length, even as part of me thinks there's no way in hell I should be doing this. I'm worried that Sasuke is going to be addictive, and that's terrifying.

"I spent a whole summer thinking about you on your knees with your lips wrapped around my cock," he says, his voice low and gravely. "I spent four years thinking about you sitting on my face. Four years thinking about you riding me."

"I – " I start. I realize I don't know what the hell to say. The fact that Sasuke has spent any time at all fantasizing about me – about us – seems absurd. "I'm sure you say that to all the girls."

Sasuke chuckles. "Not quite, sweetheart."

"You know, some people use that word as a term of endearment," I say, my hand stroking him lazily. "You make it sound like an insult."

"You take it whichever way you want, darlin'," he says.

"I don't know whether to be annoyed or turned on."

"Now, I've definitely heard that before," he says, smiling as he reaches between my legs. "I'd say turned on is more accurate."

Arousal courses through my body when he touches me, but I stop his hand with mine. "I've never been turned on by someone who irritates me as much as you do, Sasuke."

He smirks. "I'll definitely take that as a compliment, sweetheart." He spins me around to face the shower wall and pins my hands above my head. "I only washed your front. Can't miss the opportunity to wash the other side."

"You're so thoughtful," I start, but I'm immediately distracted by his hands traveling down my hips and ass, and then between my legs.

"People tell me that a lot," he says.

"Yes," I murmur, as his fingers find their way inside me. I can't follow the conversation anymore; all I can think about is his fingers and what they're doing. I move to turn around, but he reaches up with his other hand and pushes my palms firmly against the shower wall again.

"Assume the position," he says, and I can't help but giggle.

"What position is that?"

"It's whatever position I put you in," he says, and the throbbing between my legs intensifies. Damn Sasuke. He says the kind of things that my brain tells me I should think are totally misogynistic and repulsive things to say, yet my body seems to feel exactly the opposite.

"You think I'm just going to do whatever you tell me to do?" I ask. But I don't move my hands. I stand there, letting the hot water pour over me. When Sasuke steps out of the shower, the blast of air-conditioned air hits me. For a second, I think he's just decided to leave, but he pops back inside, foil wrapper in hand.

He covers my palms with his, my hands still above my head, and leans in close to my ear. "I think you're going to do what I tell you to do," he says, sliding one hand down my arm, then along my back, and over my ass. "Because you like that someone has the balls to do it."

I laugh. "And you think you're the one with the balls?"

I hear the wrinkle of the foil wrapper, and I swear, I practically melt at the sound. What the hell is Sasuke doing to me? Then his hand is on my hip, and he's pressing against my entrance, and with one swift movement, he's inside me.

"I know I am, sweetheart," he says, thrusting deeper inside me, until I feel his heavy balls pressed up against the bottom of my pussy. His palms cover my breasts, and he moves slowly inside me as the warm water from the shower pours over us. "Now, I want you to touch your clit for me. Rub it while I fuck you."

A moan escapes my lips as I comply. As if I'm not going to listen to an order like that. Pleasure courses through my body, bringing me higher and higher until I'm calling out Sasuke's name again and again, hoping the shower drowns out my cries.

"I'm going to come in you, darlin'. Do you hear me?" Sasuke's voice is strained.

I grunt my response, too caught up in my own pleasure to form words, but Sasuke grabs a handful of hair and pulls my head back. "Tell me you want me to come inside you," he demands.

As if on cue, I'm on the edge as soon as he orders me to say it. "Please," I beg. "Please." It's all I can say. I had no idea someone talking to me so crudely could be so damn hot.

"Fuck," he groans, his hand still tight on my hair. The pain heightens the intensity of everything, and I'm putting more pressure on my clit, completely swept away in the moment. "Tell me, darlin'."

"Oh God," I gasp. "Fill me with your cum."

Sasuke lets go of my hair, both hands on my waist as he thrusts inside me one last time, crying out, the sound almost feral. His orgasm triggers mine, and I feel myself crashing over the edge. His grip on me is tight, his fingers embedded so deeply in my flesh that it's the only way I don't fall over when I come, his arms wrapping around my chest, drawing me close to him.

It's a few minutes before either of us speak, my head too foggy from my orgasm. We just stand there, Sasuke still inside me, his body pressed against mine.

"God, I really like how you are in bed," Sasuke says.

"Thanks, I guess? You haven't actually been to bed with me yet."

"That's right," he says, slapping my ass. He slides out of me and steps out of the shower. "We'll have to remedy that."


	19. 17

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige.

Sasuke POV

I'm lying on her bed, still wrapped in a towel and reading her novel, when Sakura comes out of the bathroom. Before I can even make a comment about the book, she's snatched it out of my hand.

"Why are you reading this?"

"Because it was sitting on your pillow."

"So you thought that was an invite?" She's shoving it in her desk drawer, hiding it away, I suppose with good reason because that book was pretty fucking dirty. I knew Sakura had a wild side to her.

"An invite is me telling you to sit on my face," I say. "You leaving your dirty books lying around just means anyone can pick them up and read them."

"It's not a dirty book," she says.

"Really?" I ask, getting up and rushing toward her desk. She lunges back toward the desk, going for the desk drawer, but she misses, and I pull the book out, flipping open to one of the pages. Sakura jumps up, one hand holding the towel around her breasts. Honestly, the only reason I even hold the book out of her reach is because I want her to lose the towel. I read from the book: "Tsubasa thrust his throbbing manhood into her slick channel of love. Holy shit, what the fuck is a channel of love?"

"Stop. Seriously!" Sakura reaches one more time for the book, and I slip my finger under the edge of her towel, watching it fall to the ground. Then, satisfied, I return the book back to her. She groans her frustration, and when she bends over to pick up her towel, I make sure to get an ass-smack in.

"Goddamn, I'm not going to get tired of slapping you on the ass like that," I say.

When she stands up, her eyes are flashing. "What the hell was that for?" she asks. "You really are twelve years old, aren't you?"

"You liked it before."

"That was different," she says, bringing the towel back up around her, but I wrench it away from her.

"Stay naked," I tell her. "I like you uncovered better." It's true. Shit, this girl makes me wound up, just looking at that curvy ass and tits. I'm not sure what the hell I'm still doing in her room, except that I don't want to stop touching her. Not yet.

Sakura squirms away, grabbing the towel from me and wrapping herself up again. As if I didn't just have my hands all over that naked body of hers. As if I weren't just inside her.

She sits down against the pillows on the bed, setting her book on the bedside table. "Do you think our parents are home?"

I shrug. "Who cares?"

"You don't think they heard anything, do you?"

"In this house?" I ask. "No. Are you worried?"

"Aren't you?"

"Nope," I say, lying down beside her on the bed. "Not in the least."

"Your boot is off," she says.

"You're just noticing that shit now?" I ask. "Seriously?"

"I noticed before," she says. "But that was upstairs when we were…"

"Fucking?"

"You have a way of making everything sound so….crude."

"Sorry," I say, but I'm not. "I'll say making love instead."

Sakura giggles. "Oh my God, I think I'm going to vomit."

"Make loooooovvvve," I say, dragging out the words, my voice sickly sweet. "That's what that novel of yours would say, wouldn't it? I'd make love to you with my throbbing manhood?"

"Stop," she says, rolling her eyes as she swats me on the arm.

"Hey, I'm not the one reading it," I say.

"At least I can read," she says. I make a meowing sound and a pawing gesture at her, and she sticks out her tongue at me. "What are you doing here, anyway? Don't you want to go back to your room?"

"And miss out on the chance to bug you?" I ask.

"Seriously," she says. "Isn't that your thing? Casual sex?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"Doesn't that involve not hanging around afterward?"

"Sakura Haruno, are you treating me like a one night stand?" I ask, putting my hand on my chest. "I'm hurt." Okay, I'm being sarcastic, but I am kind of surprised. I mean, come on, usually I'm the one who's out the door as soon as I can get away with it afterward, but Sakura's acting like she's the one who wants me gone. I'm more annoyed than hurt.

"That's what this is, isn't it?" she says. "I mean, upstairs….and, um, in the shower, that can't happen again, Sasuke."

"So when you handle me in Kirigakure, you're not going to handle me," I say. "Is that what you're saying?"

Sakura blushes. Score one for me. "Absolutely not," she says, her voice firm. "This cannot happen again, Sasuke. We're going to be under scrutiny in Kirigakure and I'm representing the company there. So are you. There would be so much blowback if that –"

"Yeah, yeah, got it," I say, cutting her off. Leave it to Sakura to be wound so tight when it comes to stupid company policies.

"This can't leave this room, Sasuke," she says, her voice panicked. "Promise me."

I turn toward her, swallowing my irritation.

"Trust me, sweetheart, I have no interest in anyone else finding out about this."

For a second, I think the expression that flits across her face is hurt or disappointment, but it's gone so quickly I can't be sure. "Exactly," she says quickly.

"So we'll agree. It will just be one night."

"Right."

"Then it won't hurt to do it again, will it?" I ask. "I mean, one night, right? It's best to get everything out of your system."

She rolls over onto her side, facing me, her head resting on her hand. "One night and that's it. After tonight, we stop."

I nod. "Absolutely."

Like hell we're going to stop. I only just started with this girl.

"And it stays between us."

"I'm not taking an ad out in the newspaper," I say, running my hand up her thigh.

Sakura wrinkles her nose. "Do people even do newspaper ads anymore?"

"I don't care," I say, sliding my hand up farther. "Are we going to talk about newspapers, or are we going to make love?"

Sakura slaps me on the arm. "Ugh. Stop using that phrase."

I reach up to her mouth, run my thumb along her bottom lip. "Ask me nicely."

She raises her eyebrows. "I don't ask for anything nicely."

"If I recall correctly, you were begging pretty well earlier," I say. "Now you're changing your tune?"

She smiles before wrapping her lips around the tip of my finger, and all I can picture is her lips wrapped around my cock. "Too much talking," she says. "One night, remember?"

In the morning, Sakura murmurs in her sleep, incoherent nonsense words but I listen anyway. She's lying with her head on my chest, her hair splayed out all over, finally asleep after one more round of sex followed by an outrageous amount of talking about random meaningless things. It's like the sex loosened her tongue, made her punch drunk or something. It made us both that way, I guess.

Sakura was giggling, laughing at stupid shit I said while we laid in bed, kind of like she used to when we would hang out at night. Except this time, we were naked. And I wasn't trying to get in her pants anymore, because I already had.

I'd always figured that if I ever tapped Sakura Haruno, that would be the end of it, just like the way it worked with every other chick I'd ever met. The chase is everything – it's the aftermath that I can't fucking stand.

But with Sakura, I don't want to leave. So I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of her, filing it away in my memory bank. Just in case she's serious about this being a one night stand.

She finally stirs, rolling over onto her stomach to look at me, her expression satiated, at least until she registers it's me. Then it changes to a look of panic. "You're still here," she whispers.

"Good morning to you too, sweetheart."

"What time is it?"

I glance over at the alarm clock on the table. "Eight."

"Eight?" she asks, sitting bolt upright. "Shit. I have to jump in the shower. Karin will have my ass if I walk into work late. Didn't my alarm go off?"

"Yeah, but you looked so comfortable, I didn't want to wake you."

"Damn it, Sasuke." She slides out of bed and runs in the bathroom to turn on the shower before she comes back out. "How the hell are you going to sneak out of here?"

"I thought I'd lounge around in your bed naked until the housekeeper came in to clean, and then I'd tell her the whole story of what happened between us last night."

Sakura's eyes go wide. "I swear to God, Sasuke, if you don't get out of here…"

"Relax, sweetheart," I say, not bothering to hide the edge to my voice. This isn't how I fucking pictured this morning going at all. "I think you need to postpone that shower. A little morning sex would significantly improve your mood." I toss back the covers and gesture toward my cock.

"One night, Sasuke," she says. "That's it, remember?"

"Did we say one night or one day?" I ask. "Because if it was one day, then technically we still have until tonight. Twenty-four hours."

Sakura sighs. Why do I love the sound she makes when she's exasperated with me? I shouldn't love it as much as I do, but getting under her skin is thrilling. It's like foreplay. "One night, Sasuke. One night and that's it. How are you going to sneak out of here?"

I slide out of bed, crossing the room to where she stands, naked. Usually women, at least the kind of women I hook up with, look worse for wear in the morning. But not Sakura. She looks better than she did last night, standing here with her hair tousled, a smudge of mascara under her eyes, a fresh flush on her cheeks.

Don't even get me started on that fucking body of hers.

I run my palm over her waist and the side of her curvy hips, before moving it between her legs. "Instead of me sneaking out of here, why don't you let me lick you again?"

Sakura inhales so sharply that it's audible in the room, even over the white noise of the shower. "I have to shower."

"It can wait."

She pries her hand away from where it rests between her legs. "Our parents will be awake."

"Your father will be at work already, and Mikoto's probably sleeping it off somewhere," I say.

"I'll be late."

I shrug. "Karin can wait," I say. I can't stop looking at her lips. They're still pink-tinged around the edges, swollen from my kisses, and I kiss her again, lightly, but she turns her head away, touching her fingers to her lips.

"I have morning breath," she says.

I tilt her head up to me. "I don't care."

"Sasuke, don't," she whispers. "Please."

She turns and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. And shutting me out. Just like that.


	20. 18

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige.

Sakura POV

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

I let the shower water run over me, half-hoping that Sasuke will yank open the shower door and step inside, pushing me up against the wall the way he did last night. I can still feel his hands on my skin, the smell of him lingering in the air. When I wash him off me, I'm a little sad.

But I put thoughts of him aside. I hooked up with Sasuke Uchiha once. I can't hook up with him again. Even if every part of my body is screaming at me to go back into the bedroom and tell Sasuke that I want him.

I know better than to do something like that, for all kinds of reasons, like the fact that Sasuke is my step-brother. If my mother found out, she'd lose her shit. Mikoto would be horrified. And my father would be unimaginably disappointed. Or the fact that Sasuke is not a relationship kind of guy. Besides, I really don't know if I can even stand him outside of the bedroom.

In the bedroom, though…fireworks. I'm not terribly experienced – I slept with a grand total of two people in my life, before Sasuke. Both people had been boyfriends, people I thought I cared about. So the sex should have been amazing, right? It's supposed to be amazing when it's with someone you love.

Except last night with Sasuke – someone I can barely tolerate, let alone love – was so much better than anything I've ever imagined.

Of course, I have to put it out of my mind. I'm sure Sasuke already has. I'm certain this is nothing to him.

When I step out of the bathroom, my towel wrapped around me, Sasuke is gone, and for a second, I think about walking next door and telling him that I've reconsidered, that I'd rather call in sick and spend the morning in bed with him.

But I don't.

Instead, I go to work and try to put the entire thing out of my mind. It turns out that it's really fucking hard to forget what happened when your stupid stepbrother refuses to stop reminding you.

"Do you have the schedule ironed out for the fourteenth?" Karin stands in front of me, her hands on her hips, scowling. "Did you make contact with the rep?"

She's asking about the schedule for one of the dates for the Japan trip, and I answer her, "Of course," while thinking about Sasuke's text.

"You're distracted," she says. "I hope that won't be par for the course during this entire trip."

"I'm tired – I think it must be allergies or something," I say. I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I slept with Sasuke last night, or the fact that Sasuke just texted me telling me, in explicit detail, exactly what sex acts he could fit into the rest of the day before twenty-four hours is officially over.

"Must be nice to have the luxury of fatigue," Karin says, before whirling around and walking out the door. I watch the door close behind me before responding to Sasuke.

Stop texting me. I'm trying to work.

I'm responding to an email when my phone buzzes again.

I'm your client. You can't ignore me. Those are the rules.

It's accompanied by a picture of his dick. Which is, well, pretty fucking fantastic, I think, as I turn the phone to get a better view from every angle. I admire it for a minute, then text him back.

Clients don't text me dirty photos.

I don't even get two words typed on the computer before my phone buzzes again.

I hope not. If they do, I'll have to kill them.

Okay, so that makes me smile. But I shut off my phone and put it in my purse. Texting Sasuke all day is not going to help me get him out of my head. "Are you going to keep ignoring me?" Sasuke is in my doorway, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with some kind of motorcycle logo on it. I know nothing about bikes or racing, and despite my attempts to educate myself about the sport, I don't recognize the things I should probably know about.

"If you keep –" I step toward him, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Texting me the way you are…"

"What? A photo of my cock is too distracting for you?"

I roll my eyes, trying to look more nonchalant than I feel. "It's not distracting the way you think it is."

Sasuke steps into my room and shuts the door. "The real thing is a lot better," he says. "But you already know that, don't you, darlin'?"

"Our parents are home," I hiss. "Get out of my room before someone catches you in here."

"We're not doing anything except having a friendly conversation," he says.

"We're not talking about anything," I say. "You're just hoping to get laid again."

A grin spreads across Sasuke's face. "I'm definitely hoping to get laid again," he says. "Aren't you?"

"We can't," I protest.

"Because it's unprofessional?" he says, his tone mocking.

"Because – yes, it's unprofessional," I say. "And because we're about to travel overseas together for a business trip."

"Are you afraid you won't be able to keep your hands off me?" he asks.

"No!" I protest. But that's definitely not true. "You think way too highly of yourself."

"Darlin'," he says, crossing the room and standing inches away from me, "I know you haven't been able to stop thinking about it. You're lying to yourself."

"Why, because you're so amazing in the sack?" I ask, my voice wavering. He's right. Everything in me cries out for his touch. I want to feel him inside me.

"Don't act like it's not exactly that," Sasuke says. His gaze falls from my face to my chest, and my breath catches in my throat. I picture him putting a finger between the top buttons of my shirt and yanking, scattering buttons everywhere. I'm terrified that's exactly what I want him to do. "If I recall correctly, you were moaning my name last night, right? Fuck me, Sasuke, right?"

"Be quiet," I hiss, covering his mouth with my hand. He grips my wrist, yanks my hand away from his mouth and pulls me against him. Damn it. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and my body responds with an immediate flood of heat between my legs.

"I can try to be quiet," he whispers. "I just don't know if you can."

"You have to leave," I ordered.

"Or what?"

Or my resolve will weaken. "Or I'll scream."

Sasuke grins. "Scream my name," he says.

"I'm not joking, Sasuke," I say, my voice firm. "Get out of my room. Right now. Or I will scream." I immediately regret the words coming out of my mouth. I want to take them back, to tell him to stay here. I want to slide down to my knees and take him in my mouth again.

But Sasuke just smiles, leans in close to my ear. "How long do you think it'll be before I'm back inside that sweet pussy of yours? A day? A week?"

"We can't, Sasuke," I tell him. But my voice is strained.

"Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, darlin'," he says. "But I'll be right next door when you change your mind."

Only after he leaves and the door shuts behind him does my heart stop racing. Crap. I turn the shower on, ice-cold. Do cold showers actually work?

Ten minutes later, I feel exactly the way I did before – horny as hell. Except now I'm shivering and horny. Faking sick to avoid dinner with Sasuke and my parents doesn't help me feel any better.


	21. 19

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV.

It's been two weeks since Sakura and I hooked up. Fourteen days. She's been carefully avoiding me, and I've been spending every waking moment in physical therapy and back on the bike at the track. And thinking about how to get back in Sakura's bed.

"This is an important night for your step-father," Mikoto says. I've just walked in the door, still wearing my riding gear, helmet in my hand, and she's up my ass already. "Don't walk through the house in those boots."

"I'll take them off in my room," I say. "Unless you want me to strip off everything right here in the foyer?" The housekeeper ducks out of the entryway, smart enough to avoid this scene.

"Have some class, Sasuke," she sniffs.

"Cocktails, already, mother?" I ask. "Not even bothering to wait for the party?"

Mikoto sips from her tumbler. "You'd better not ruin this for Kizashi," she says.

"I'd better not ruin it for Kizashi?" I ask. "Ask yourself who of the two of us is more likely to ruin anything for Kizashi tonight."

"You know what I mean," she hisses. "I know what's going on with you and Sakura."

My heart stops cold in my chest, but I keep my voice calm. "What do you think is going on with me and Sakura?"

"You think a girl like that is ever going to look at you twice? Even if she weren't your sister, she'd be out of your league." She takes another swig from her glass.

"Step-sister," I correct. "She's my step-sister, not my sister."

"You're disgusting," she hisses. "It's disgusting."

"I haven't looked at her anyway at all," I say. "Maybe if you weren't half in the bag all the time, you'd have a clearer view of things."

The door opens, and Sakura walks inside, stopping short when she sees us. "Hi," she says, her voice tentative. "I came home early to get ready for the event."

"Don't worry," I say. "Mikoto is already pre-partying herself. She's concerned that we all understand the importance of tonight."

Sakura nods, silent as she looks back and forth between us. "Um, sure," she says. "It's going to be a great event. Some of the reps from the Kirigakure manufacturer will be there, Sasuke. I don't think you've met them yet, but I'll introduce you."

"Perfect," I say. I'm so preoccupied with Mikoto's intimations that I can't really think about anything else. If she were to tell Kizashi what she suspected about Sakura and I…

I remind myself that what she's saying is just the ravings of a drunk.

"I'm certain you'll make sure Sasuke has everything he needs tonight," Mikoto says, looking at Sakura. She takes another sip from her glass, her expression smug, and I've never wanted to hit a woman, but I really want to knock that fucking glass out of my mother's hand.

Sakura's forehead wrinkles, and she looks from my face to my mother's and back again. "Absolutely," she says. "That's my job. So if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready."

I wait until Sakura is out of earshot before I speak. "Sakura didn't remember you as being quite so petty and vindictive," I say. "Unlike me. I know you've always been this way."

Mikoto smiles, her lips drawn tight. "Remember what I said, Sasuke," she says. "Don't ruin anything for Kizashi. And stop looking at your sister."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, Mikoto," I say, before I turn and walk quickly down the hall. I don't want a response from her. I just want to get the hell out of this conversation.

Sakura's door is open, but I walk past it into my bedroom and set my helmet on the desk. I'm sitting down and taking off my boots when she steps inside. "What did you say to her?" she whispers.

"Nothing," I say. "Absolutely nothing."

"She doesn't know what happened?" Sakura looks panicked, and her voice squeaks.

"She's a drunk," I say. "Do you really think she knows anything?"

"She seemed like she did."

"Well, it's a good thing there's nothing to know, then, is there?" I unzip my jacket and lay it across the back of the chair, turning to see Sakura just standing there watching me.

"There's nothing to know," she echoes, and I'm not sure if she's asking a question or repeating my statement.

"Nothing happened between us," I elaborate. "So there's really nothing to know. Now, I'm trying to get in the shower. Did you have something else to ask?"

Sakura shakes her head slowly, still staring at me. "Did you ride?"

"Yep."

"Your leg is doing better?"

"Yep."

"Are you just going to answer me in one-word responses?"

"What do you want me to say, Sakura?" I walk toward her, and she backs up until she's pressed against the wall in my bedroom. Irritation surges through me, although the sight of her against the wall makes my cock stir. "You're the one who wanted us to be professional."

"I –" she starts, looking up at me with pleading eyes. "I want us to be friends, though."

"I already told you," I whisper. I watch as her chest rises and falls, her breath short. I want to taste her. "I don't want to be your friend."

"What do you want, then?" she asks.

"Don't fucking do that, Sakura." I put my hands on her wrists, pin them at her sides, then change my mind and push them roughly above her head. Her lips part, and she arches her back, her breasts high in the air.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't ask questions that sound innocent, and then look at me like you're doing right now, like you want me," I say. "I'm not playing a fucking game here."

"What do you want?" she whispers.

Holding her wrists against the wall with one hand, I slide my other palm up her thigh, moving it higher and higher and bunching her pencil skirt up around her ass. "You know what I want," I whisper. "I want to slide my cock inside your wet pussy until you call my name like you did that night. I want to hear the little whimpering sound you make before you come."

She says nothing, but she makes that sound in the back of her throat, the one I just described. The whimper. My fingers aren't even between her fucking legs, and she's making that sound. Fuck, that sound is going to be my undoing.

I reach between her legs. Her panties are soaked already, and I think that fact alone might make me come. She looks at me, her expression colored with lust.

"Tell me what you want, darlin'," I whisper, my fingers moving across the surface of those panties. "Still want to be friends?"

"It's not – shit, Sasuke, it's not a good idea." But her breath is already coming in gasps.

"I tell you what I want to do to you, and you can't do the same?" I ask. "You kick me out of your room the morning after, then ignore me for the past fourteen fucking days. And now you're in my room panting and you're still not going to say you want me? Just say it, darlin'. I want to hear the words come out of your mouth."

"I –" she starts. Then she looks at me. "I want you."

I drop to my knees in front of her and yank her skirt up to her waist while she runs her hands through my hair. "Not good enough," I say, my fingers trailing along the surface of her panties. "I want to hear exactly what you want."

"I want you," she says. Gripping the side of her thong, I tear the fabric in two. "What are you doing?"

"I want to rip these the hell off you," I say, doing the same with the other side. "What do you want me to do? For a girl who's so fucking mouthy all the time, you're awful quiet now."

"I want you to –" She clears her throat. "I want you to lick me."

I touch my tongue to her pussy, tasting the sweetness of her juices. She's practically dripping, and she moans the second I touch her. "Like this?"

"I want you to do what you did before," she says. "Make me come on your face." I slide my fingers inside her, cover her clit with my mouth, sucking it in as I listen to her breath become shorter.

"Keep talking," I say. "Tell me what else."

"Oh, fuck, Sasuke," she says, her breath shorter. "I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your cock inside me when I come."

Hearing those words come out of oh-so-professional Sakura's mouth nearly does me in. My cock is throbbing against the fabric of my pants. But I stand, my fingers still inside her, and kiss her hard on the mouth. When I pull back, she gasps for breath and I withdraw my fingers, sliding them over her bottom lip, coating it with her wetness. "Tell me you're mine," I demand.

"I'm yours." She whispers it. She's so far gone now she'll say anything I want her to say.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. I'm leaving now," I tell her.

"What?" Her eyes fly open, and she looks at me in disbelief. "What do you mean, you're leaving?"

Leaning in close to her, I whisper. "It's your father's party," I say. "We need to get ready. And you need to learn a lesson in making me wait."

"So that's…it?"

"Darlin', I'm just getting started," I say. "What you wear tonight, you wear for me. No panties, no bra. And no touching yourself between now and the party. Do you understand?"

Sakura raises her eyebrows. "So, you're going to just issue orders and expect me to fall in line, then?"

I lean in close to her. "I'll know if you touch yourself," I say, reaching between her legs to stroke her clit one last time before I leave. She clutches my arms as I roll my finger in circles. "And not only am I going to issue orders and anticipate that you'll follow them, I'm going to expect you to be dripping when you do."


	22. 20

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sakura POV.

"Kombanwa," I say, bowing as I speak my greeting, good evening, in Japanese. "Hajimemashite. Watashi no namae wa Sakura Haruno desu." I introduce myself in Japanese, already rusty after not speaking it since I've been in Konoha.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Haruno." Utakata Ito is young, probably late twenties, and looks like a Japanese film star. No one told me that. How do I say I thought you were an old man, in Japanese? He's covering my hand with his and looking me in the eye, apparently not content with just a Japanese greeting. "You speak Japanese with ease. Tell me you didn't just learn an introduction for us."

My father walks up beside me, claps his hand on my shoulder, and Utakata drops my hand. "Sakura was an Asian Studies major in college," he says. "She's been studying Japanese for years."

"I'm thrilled to be helping with Sasuke's tour," I say. "And I'm very much looking forward to visiting Kirigakure" Mentally, I'm only partially here. I haven't seen Sasuke all night, not since what happened earlier in my bedroom. As soon as he left, I slid my fingers between my legs and made myself come. It was impossible to wait after what he'd done to me, how close he'd brought me to the edge and then stopped. Touching myself did nothing to satisfy me, though, and the aching between my legs tonight is a constant reminder of where I want Sasuke to be.

My father's voice jerks me out of my daydream. "Isn't that right, Sakura?" he's asking.

I nod. "Yes, of course." I have no idea what I've just agreed to.

"Then I will look forward to giving you a personal tour when you're there," Utakata says, before he walks away.

A personal tour? How much of the conversation did I miss?

My father turns to me. "Nice job," he says. "Utakata Ito seems impressed with your Japanese."

"I'm sure he just didn't expect you to be sending someone who spoke the language," I say.

My father sips his scotch. "Watch yourself over there," he says, looking at me meaningfully. Then, his expression changes as someone else walks up to us. "Congressman Suzuki. Where is your lovely wife?"

I stand beside my father, smiling as he makes introductions and parades me around like the proud father he is. But I'm looking around, searching the faces in the crowd for Sasuke. The annual Fourth of July party is a tradition of my father's. He hosts it every year. It's an all Konoha barbecue on steroids, over-the-top and ridiculous, complete with Konoha state representatives and the mayor in attendance, and a fireworks display at the end that rivals the town's own display. It's a huge business party hosted by Haruno Oil. And my father will spend the evening with my mother at his side, greasing palms and courting new contacts.

One of the catering staff walks by with a tray of glasses, champagne flutes with raspberries and blueberries in the bottom that ensure even the drinks are part of the patriotic theme. I snag a glass, reveling in the moment of silence with no one bothering me. That sense of peace lasts less than five minutes until Karin approaches me. "You've been busy," she says, her expression pinched.

"I hope that's a compliment," I say. I know it's exactly the opposite, but I'm determined not to let Karin ruin my night. Nothing is going to ruin my night, not with Sasuke's words running through my head, like some kind of dirty mantra: I'm going to expect you to be dripping.

The thing is, I am wet. Exactly like he wanted.

Karin sips from a cocktail. "I spoke to Mr. Ito," she says. "He wants to give you a personal tour of Tokyo."

I nod. "I'm sure the company will show all of us around."

"And here I thought you were all about Sasuke," she says. "But you'll just bat those big eyes of yours and try to wrap everyone around your little finger, won't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I down the rest of my glass of champagne in one gulp, and grab another from a tray as it comes by. I don't care if Karin is my boss or not; I'm about to punch her right in that stupid, pinched little face.

Before I can say anything else, Sasuke is by my side. "Evening, ladies." Karin greets him with an air kiss and the sight makes me hate her even more.

When he steps back from her, his gaze drifts slowly up the length of my body, and I flush warm. "You both look lovely," he says, but his eyes are only on me.

Sasuke has this way of making me feel naked when he looks at me, so self-conscious I'm nearly squirming. Of course, I am practically naked in this dress. It's short, like so fucking short it's practically indecent, especially for a work party. I almost changed at the last minute, but Sasuke's words kept echoing in my head. The short and sexy dress was a concession to the fact that I didn't do what he expressly ordered – I just couldn't bring myself to leave my bra and panties at home.

Karin turns to Sasuke. "Utakata Ito certainly seems to think Sakura looks lovely tonight."

That's it. I am going to punch her.

Sasuke looks at me, his gaze intense. "Is that so?"

I smile, forcing a nonchalant tone. "He's the Japanese point of contact for your tour," I say. "He's the Vice President for Public Relations of the bike manufacturing company that's hosting you. He's offered to take us on a tour of Tokyo, personally. It's extremely kind of him."

"Oh, don't be modest, Sakura," Karin says, putting her hand on Sasuke's arm. Sasuke flinches and steps away a few inches, but it doesn't seem to deter Karin. "Utakata is quite young, especially for someone so successful. And I'm sure he means to take Sakura on quite the personal tour of Kirigakure."

I can feel my face redden. "That's not true," I snap.

Karin smiles. "Sakura, you're so modest about your accomplishments. She's so good at establishing personal relationships with clients."

Does she know about me and Sasuke?

Sasuke gives me a look that makes me want to melt, and I know I have to get out of here. "Excuse me," I say, turning to leave.

"Sakura," Sasuke says, but Karin's hand is already on his arm.

"Sasuke, I need you to meet Mr.Tanaka," she says. "Mr.Tanaka, how are you?"

I head for the bar and order a cocktail, watching Sasuke as he shakes hands with the group Karin is introducing him to. He glances over at me, and I turn toward the bar. I'm embarrassed by Karin's intimations that I'm interested in Utakata.

As if on cue, Utakata's voice breaks through my thoughts, and I inwardly groan before plastering a smile on my face. "Utakata-san," I say.

"I hope I'm not being too forward by saying that I'm very much looking forward to your visit to Kirigakure ." He holds up his beer. "Kampaii," he says. Cheers.

I smile politely. "No, of course not. Not at all," I say. "We're all looking forward to a tour."

He nods. "Yes. All of you. Of course."

"Excuse me, Ms. Haruno." One of the catering staff, dressed in black tie, interrupts, handing me a folded slip of paper. "There's a message for you."

Utakata gives me a slight bow. "I'll let you attend to what you need to, Ms. Haruno," he says. "But I look forward to seeing you soon."

I open the note, my breath catching in my throat.

Corner of the maze in the garden. Five minutes. Don't be late.

I spin around slowly, scanning the crowd for Sasuke, but he's gone. Karin is laughing, playfully touching the hand of some suit I don't recognize. My father and Mikoto are talking to a group of middle-aged businessmen or politicians.

For a second, I think I should probably just go back inside the house. I could slip away from here, away from the glad-handing and grab-assing and all of the off-the-books deals being made, and just go to bed. That would be the smart thing to do.

The not-so-smart thing to do would be the thing I'm about to do.

I slip through the crowds unnoticed, my cocktail in hand, walking past the guesthouse and down the lawn toward the garden. The estate is ridiculously huge, set on twenty acres, a lot of it wooded, but the grounds around the house are large. The garden is modeled after Kumogakure gardens, but with Konoha flair, of course. There's a maze in the corner made of greenery and I wander through it, almost surprised I remember the way, only making one turn that leads to a dead end before I reach him.

Sasuke is standing there holding a drink, and wearing a tuxedo. The party is black tie, which is ridiculous given the weather and the fact that it's a summer party in Konoha, but Mikoto insists we're not a bunch of hicks. It's still warm and humid, even though it's almost eleven at night.

The only other time I've seen Sasuke in a suit is at the party the summer of my eighteenth birthday. I have a hard time deciding if he looks better in this or in the racing gear that fits him like a glove.

Sasuke doesn't move. He just stands there, watching me.

"What Karin said --" I start, but he interrupts me quickly.

"Karin is a bitch," he says.

"Sasuke, the two of you never..." My voice trails off. I can't say what I want to ask, because I'm not sure I really want to know the answer to the question.

Sasuke steps close to me, his voice low in my ear. "What do you want to know, Sakura?"

"Nothing," I say. "The way she talks to you..."

"You think I fucked her?" he asks. His fingers trail along my arm, and I shiver at his touch. "Is that what you want to know? You should say what you mean, Sakura."

"Fine," I say. "I'm asking if you fucked her."

"Does it matter?" His face is close to my neck, and when I feel him inhale deeply, I close my eyes, wanting his lips on me.

"Yes, it matters," I say. I put my hand on his chest to stop him from continuing to do what he's doing to me. I feel like he's unraveling me.

"Why does it matter?" he asks. "You wanted us to be a one-night stand, didn't you?"

"I -" I shake my head. "I -- you're right. I don't know. It's none of my business. And, yeah, one night." I'm too confused right now to be angry. Earlier, he acted like he couldn't keep his hands off me, as if one night wasn't enough. And now, he acts like we're just hooking up. "You know what? I should go."

I turn to leave, and he catches my wrist. My drink splashes in the glass, and champagne drips onto my hand.

"No," he says. "You're not leaving."

"It was a mistake coming here." But the way he looks at me, like he did in my room earlier, makes me melt.

Sasuke's eyes never leave mine, as he leans over, tilting his head down and slowly licking the droplets off my skin, his tongue lingering, moving so slowly I think I might die. He takes the drink from my hand and sets both of our glasses on the ground a few feet away before turning to face me again. "You sure about that?"

I swear my body is so responsive to him, that he can make me wet with merely a glance. Why is that? I like him, and then I see him with Karin, and I'm sure I despise him. "It was a mistake," I repeat. He reaches for my wrist again and brings it to his mouth, touching his lips to the sensitive skin on the inside. My body – my stupid traitorous body – responds with raised goosebumps along my arms and hardened nipples against my bra. Sasuke looks up at me. "Karin and I did not fuck," he says.

"Okay," I say. But I'm not entirely sure.

"You didn't come down here to talk about Karin," he says. "But, just so you know, I've never touched her."

"She wants you to," I say.

"The way that the Japanese businessman wants you?" he asks. Touché. Sasuke slides his finger under the strap of my dress, and then looks at me. "You're wearing a bra," he says. "That's disappointing."

My heart races when I look at him. "It went with the dress."

Sasuke raises his eyebrows. "Panties?" he asks, and a knowing smile creeps over his face when I nod. He takes my earlobe in his mouth, his tongue flicking over it slowly, sensually. "I suppose you made yourself come earlier, too, didn't you?"

I swallow hard. "Yes."

"Did you think of me?" he asks, his hand gripping my waist, sliding down the side of my hip tightly. He makes a sound under his breath, low and primal.

"Yes," I whisper.

"You've been a very bad girl, Sakura Haruno," he says, his breath warm on my ear. "I left you with very specific, very particular instructions. I told you not to wear a bra or panties, and definitely not to touch yourself, and you did both. I wonder whatever should I do with you?" I want to reach up and unbutton his shirt, slide my hands across his bare chest. I want him right now, out in the open, so close to everything, the din of music and people up near the house. Anyone could wander in at any moment, and yet I still want him.

Sasuke steps back, away from me. Shit, I think, he's leaving. And I'm practically soaked. But he just looks at me for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then he speaks. "Panties. Ankles. Now."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says, his gaze intense. "Reach up underneath your skirt and take off your panties and hand them to me."

No one has ever talked to me the way Sasuke does. A bossy, demanding, misogynistic dickhead – who is also my stepbrother – should not order me around and make me wet with anticipation. I should tell him to fuck off. Then I should turn around and walk away.

But I don't.

Instead, I do what he tells me to do. And it makes me wet. My eyes never leave his as I reach underneath my skirt and slide them over my hips, letting them fall to the ground. Bending over, I pick them up and walk to Sasuke, panties dangling from the tip of my finger. "Is this what you wanted?" I ask.

"This is nowhere near what I want," he says. He takes my thong from my hand and puts it in the pocket of his jacket. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're mouthy as all fucking get out?" he asks.

"Never."

"Liar," he says. "Turn around and close your mouth before I put something in it."

"Promise?" I whisper.

The corners of his mouth curl up. "Is that what you want?"

I don't answer him. I turn around instead. "Yes?" I ask, but I'm really answering his question. What I want is Sasuke's cock in my mouth again. What I want is to taste him when he comes.

"Pull your skirt up over your ass."

"Not out here, Sasuke," I protest, but the protest is weak.

"Now."

I hold my breath, flipping my skirt up to my waist, the air cool against my skin. And I wait. Sasuke moves his hand slowly over the curves of my ass, then brings his palm down hard on my flesh. "That's for wearing panties."

I let out a little moan as the vibration from his touch moves through me, a jolt of pleasure and pain between my legs. The initial sharp sting becomes a dull throb, but only for a moment until he brings his hand down again. "And that's for wearing a bra."

He pauses, letting his fingers brush my pussy lips, already wet with my arousal. His touch sends pleasure ricocheting through my body that far eclipses the pain. Then he draws his hand back and spanks me again. "And that's for flirting with Japanese businessmen."

I face him, my ass cheek throbbing and tears stinging my eyes. "Now you're the jealous one," I say.

Sasuke's hands grip my flesh, and he pulls me hard against him, my skirt still bunched up around my waist. "You're goddamn right I'm jealous," he says, his voice hoarse. "I don't like thinking about you with someone else."

"Why?" I ask, my face upturned. "You're the one who…dates around, Sasuke Uchiha. Everyone knows that."

"Not since you," he says.

"So you haven't slept with anyone else in a couple weeks?" I say. "Congratulations."

"I haven't looked at anyone since you came back here," he says, his voice angry. "And, just so you understand -- as long as I'm fucking you, you belong to me."

"Who the hell says shit like that, Sasuke?" I ask. Part of me bristles at his possessiveness, but another part of me is so turned on I can't think clearly. I don't know whether to smack his hands off my ass and tell him to go screw himself and his caveman antics, or whether to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth. He's that infuriating. And confusing. "You can't just…tell me you own me. That's not something normal people say."

"Fuck normal," Sasuke says, taking my face in his hands. He strokes my lower lip with his thumb and I can imagine him doing the same thing between my legs. And then, as if he can read my mind, he reaches between my legs with his other hand, spreading them apart and thrusting two fingers inside me without warning. "You're making me crazy. That's not fucking normal either."

"You…oh my God…" I gasp the words, my hand on his firm chest for balance. "You cannot just put your fingers…inside me out here."

He doesn't stop, though. He continues to stroke me, his other hand over my breast. "I'm not just going to put my fingers inside you," he says. "I'm going to make you come outside, right here in the garden."

I'm so wet, so on the verge already from the anticipation of him, that I'm lost in his touch. So lost, that it takes me a minute to register the voices of a couple somewhere nearby. When I do hear them, I stiffen, giving Sasuke a panicked look. "Shit," I whisper. "Someone's coming."

"Then you'd better come," he says, glancing over my shoulder toward the entrance of this part of the maze. "Because I'm not moving my fingers until you do."

"No," I protest, but he presses his palm firmly against my clit, his fingers continuing to work their magic. "Shit, Sasuke."

"Come for me, Sakura," he whispers, and his words bring me higher. "Come for me right here, right now, or you're about to be discovered in the garden at your father's house, with your sophisticated little black dress around your waist, your step brother's handprints on your ass, and his fingers in your pussy."

That's it. The filthiness of his words push me over the edge and send me hurtling toward a climax. I'm clutching at his arms and at the shirt that covers his chest as I come hard on his fingers. Sasuke covers my mouth with his to mute my moan.

Then he pulls away from me and grins. "I knew you were fucking dirty," he says. He doesn't even let me recover, just slides his fingers from between my legs and puts them in his mouth, making a show of licking them. "You'd better pull that skirt down fast."

"Shit." My pussy is throbbing and my heart is about to beat out of my chest as the voices, a man's voice and a woman's drunken giggle, get closer. "Shit, Sasuke."

"Come on," he says, far more casual than I feel, as he bends down to grab our cocktail glasses, and nods in the opposite direction. "We'll go out this way."


	23. 21

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV.

"Oh my God." Sakura stops, just outside of the maze, her hand over her chest and her breath short. "We could have gotten caught in there."

I hold my glass up in the air, in a mock "cheers" gesture. "But we didn't."

"We should get back," she says, her expression panicked.

"Oh, I don't think so. I'm not done with you yet." I take her hand and place it on the front of my pants, and she laughs.

"How are you hard after we just ran out of there because people were coming?" she asks, her eyes wide. Then she pauses. "Oh. You're hard because we might have gotten caught."

I shrug. "Maybe," I say. "Or maybe it's just you that got me hot."

"There's nowhere to go," she says. "If we go inside the guest house or the main house, someone will notice."

"Good thing we're not going to either of those places," I say. "Come on."

Sakura follows me across the path to the golf cart, parked on the side of the outbuilding where the gardeners keep their supplies. "I don't get it. Here?"

"No, not here," I say, gesturing. "Get in."

"Where are you taking me?" she asks. But she slides into the seat in the golf cart.

"Don't trust me, darlin'? That's awful hateful of you, given where my fingers just were."

Sakura raises her eyebrows, grinning as she holds onto the side of the golf cart. "I definitely know not to trust you," she says.

"Shameful." I shake my head, steering us along the path that winds down the back of the property.

"So what's it going to look like to anyone who sees the golf cart just roaming around back here?" she asks.

"Like one of the groundskeepers is doing work."

"At night."

I shrug. "No one will give it a second thought," I say.

Sakura glances over at me. "My father was right," she says. "You're trouble. You definitely need a babysitter."

"I do. Will you wear a plaid skirt?"

Sakura laughs. "That's a schoolgirl, not a babysitter."

"Ooh. Schoolgirl then, even better. What do babysitters wear?" I ask, pulling the golf cart up to where I want to take her. We're parked on a hill on the far end of the developed part of the property next to a pond that's stocked for fishing – man-made, I think -- and overlooking the garden, which just tonight became my new favorite place. Well, it's a close second to the sunroom.

"Mine wore jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing sexy," she says. "Sorry to disappoint. Didn't you ever have a babysitter?"

"I had a nanny," I say. "German. Not very pleasant."

"Was Mikoto around a lot when you were a kid?" she asks.

"Nah," I say, shrugging. "Which is probably for the best. She's not really the most motherly person there ever was."

Sakura is silent for a minute. "It looks so pretty from afar," she says, looking at the party from our vantage point in the distance, where the white lights glitter against the backdrop of the tents.

"Yeah, it's when you have to actually go down there and interact with everyone that it's not as pretty," I say. That came out a lot more bitter-sounding than I intended.

Sakura tucks her hair behind her ear and looks at me. "Are you happy?" she asks. "I don't mean, like are you happy with you and I or whatever. I mean it more generally."

"What the hell, Sakura? That's an uncomfortable fucking question."

"You think?" she asks. "It shouldn't be, right? It should be easy."

"I don't know," I say. It's not easy. It's the least easy question ever. "Are you happy?"

She studies me for a second, and I swear to God my heart stops. Like, full on stops. I don't know why I care so much what her answer to that question is, but it suddenly seems like the most meaningful second of waiting in the world.

Then she breaks into the biggest damn smile I've ever seen, and she's absolutely fucking radiant. "Yeah," she says. "Right now I am."

I stare at her stupidly, and before I can say anything, she presses her soft lips to mine. The kiss is tentative and hesitant, just like the way she first kissed me four years ago. And I'm instantly transported to feeling eighteen and head over heels for Sakura.

She kisses me the way no one ever had before and no one has since, and the chemistry is so intense it's a fucking explosion, fireworks.

And I mean that literally.

Both of us jump at the explosion, and Sakura giggles. "Oh my God, that scared me," she says.

Then she puts her hand in mine, and for a minute, we just sit there watching the fireworks together, and I think that my fucking heart is going to explode.

The fireworks are still going when she climbs on top of me and kisses me, her hair falling down around my face. I slip the straps of her dress from her shoulders, followed by her bra, and look at her, silhouetted against the background of the party and the fireworks.

I'm suddenly struck by how much everything with Sakura feels right. She feels like coming home.

She pauses, looking at me. "What?" she whispers. "You look weird."

"Fuck you, too," I say, my thumb sliding over her hard nipple.

She swats my arm. "I mean, you have a weird expression," she says softly, kissing me again.

I put my hands on both sides of her face and took her in. "It's nothing," I say. "I could just get used to looking at you like this."

Sakura doesn't say anything, just blushes her response before kissing me again. Her tongue finds mine, and she moans against me, sliding her hand down to my waistband, where she fumbles with the button on my pants before gripping the lapels of my jacket. "I want this off," she says, her voice breathy. "Take this off. I want you inside me."

That's what I've been waiting to hear. It's not everything, but it's enough. I strip off my jacket and toss it on the seat beside her, and then her hands are on my waistband, unzipping my pants before I even have the chance. When she grasps my cock, she

sighs.

She fucking sighs.

Like she's been waiting for it.

Just when I think I have a handle on Sakura, she goes and changes everything.

I reach between her legs and confirm her desire. "You're still wet," I say.

"I told you."

Sakura doesn't even wait for me to put on the condom; she grabs it from my hand as soon as I rip open the wrapper, and rolls it onto my length, her eyes never leaving mine. "No more foreplay," she orders. Flashing me a wicked grin, she turns around and flips up her skirt, then impales herself on my cock, gliding onto my length in one single movement, before settling back against me.

I hold her tight, caressing her breasts as I rock slowly inside her. The fact that I'm filling her up to the hilt, my balls pressed against her, out here in the middle of her father's estate, is enough to leave me throbbing. But then Sakura starts to ride me, slowly and rhythmically, and I'm brought nearly to the brink.

"Oh, God, Sasuke," she moans. "Just like that."

"No more foreplay," I say as I fuck her. But I don't mean the actual physical act of foreplay. I mean the bickering and fighting, the back-and-forth between Sakura and I.

"No," she gasps. "Just fuck me."

I thrust deeper inside her and she rides me, grinding harder against me as she starts to lose control. She brings me closer and closer and I pull her head back by gripping a handful of hair. "No more messing around, Sakura," I warn.

"Oh God, Sasuke," she gasps. "I'm so close."

"No. More. Of. This. One. Night. Stand. Bullshit." I punctuate each word with a thrust and a yank of her hair. "You and I are fucking."

"Yes," she moans.

"You wait to come until I say you can come," I say. Fuck, I'm going to have a hard time waiting. I press more firmly on her clit to torture her a little more. "Do you understand me?"

"Sasuke, please."

"Is that a yes?" I ask. "You belong to me. All of you is mine."

"Yes, yes, yes," she cries out.

"Come for me," I growl into her ear, and her muscles squeeze my cock before I even finish the sentence. My balls clench and I let go, filling her up, my hands on her hips, pushing her down hard on my cock. When she screams, I push my fingers in her mouth and she sucks on them, muting her cries.

I'm so caught up in the moment that I don't even register at first that she's slapping me on the arm. "What, baby?"

"Sasuke!" she yells. "We're fucking moving."

"Fuck, yeah, we are." My eyes are closed and I have my head buried in her neck, and I'm breathing in her scent, this mixture of sex and summertime that I want to imprint on my brain so I can remember it forever.

"Shit, no, Sasuke! We're actually moving! Backwards!" she yells.

I opened my eyes, and realized we are rolling backwards, in fact. Rapidly.

Down the hill.

Toward the motherfucking pond.

I fumble for the emergency break, trying to find it with my foot in the dark and Sakura on my lap. That's a lot harder than it sounds, when you're careening backwards down a hill.

When I hit the brake pedal and we stop sliding backwards, we're perched on the bank of the pond, the back wheels dangerously close to the water. The golf cart sits slightly at an angle, and Sakura sits squarely on my cock.

She gasps, her bare breasts heaving, hand over her face. For a second, I think she's crying, but when she looks up, she erupts into peals of laughter. "Holy shit, Sasuke, we almost ended up in the lake!"

"We probably should sit here for a few more minutes," I say. "Don't want to shift the weight or anything to accidentally make us roll into the pond."

"Oh my God, will it?" she squeals. Then she looks over her shoulder at me and I raise my eyebrows. "You just want me on your cock longer."

"Smart girl."

"Did you mean what you said when we were in the middle of…you know?"

"Did I mean what I said about us?" I ask.

"Yes," she says. "Do you want this to be more than just a one night stand?"

I pull her against me, one arm wrapped tightly around her chest. "I've never been more than a one night stand kind of guy. All I know is that I don't want to be with anyone else, and that the thought of someone else putting his hands on you makes me want to kill him."

"So, no Karin," she says.

"Fuck, of course there's no Karin," I tell her.

"No bimbos or groupies," she says.

"There's no one else but you, Sakura." When I say the words aloud, they ring true. The problem is that I thought I was just talking about having her all to myself in the bedroom, but now I'm not sure sex is all I want from her.


	24. 22

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sakura POV

I'm stuck on a flight to Kirigakure with Sasuke and Karin. Not that this is awkward or anything. At all.

Karin has been sweet as pie to me, but I'm pretty sure she wants me dead. I think she suspects Sasuke and I are up to something, and that's definitely true. We've been sneaking around like a couple of hormonal teenagers. The truth is, I can't get enough of him. I find myself wanting him all the time, and that fact is starting to scare me a little bit.

The flight itself hasn't been terrible. We have first class suites, so I put up the privacy partition on mine as soon as we took off, and I didn't have to even think about Karin and how she glared at me from the other side of the aisle when Sasuke got into the suite next to mine. It's almost like she doesn't exist. The seat converts into a bed, and I'm lying here on my laptop looking at the schedule, but I'm preoccupied with thoughts of Sasuke.

Sasuke says he wants us to be more than just a one night stand. But is it only because he doesn't want anyone else to touch me?

I press my finger to my lips, thinking about Sasuke's version of owning me. I've never wanted to be possessed by someone before, but that's what I find myself wanting now.

A message appears in my inbox.

Are you sleeping? I'm bored. You should figure out a way to entertain me. That's going to be your job on this trip, right? The flight attendant has been by a million times with Sake, you know. Put down your partition and join the living.

I choke back a laugh and roll my eyes.

I know what your version of entertainment is. I'm sure Karin would be thrilled if that happened. Is she still giving me the evil eye through the partition?

I give it a few minutes before I go back to looking at the schedule. Obviously, Sasuke got bored and moved on to something else. And that's precisely what I'm afraid of, when it comes to him and women. That's why I keep trying to push him away.

I wonder how much I'm deluding myself by thinking I'm something special in Sasuke's eyes. I think I might be letting my past feelings about him affect my judgment now. I'm afraid it might be making me careless.

I have to remind myself that what's between us is just sex. That's all. We're hooking up and that's all it's going to be. It might not be just one night but it's certainly not going to be forever.

I get another email from Sasuke.

Karin put her partition up and she hasn't poked her head out since. She slept on the flight to Vegas. You should put down your partition and entertain me.

Show me your boobs.

Have you joined the mile-high club?

I shake my head, but I lower the partition that divides us. "You're bad," I whisper.

"Aw," he says. "Why are you still wearing your shirt? I said boobs."

"I'm looking at a boob."

"Wow, you bowl me over with your witty and clever retorts, Delaney," he says, raising his eyebrow.

"Shut up. You give me very little to work with."

Sasuke grins at me, reaching over to slide his hand around the back of my neck and draw me in close to him. He kisses me full on the lips, but I push him back. "What?" he asks.

"You're going to kiss me like that, right in public?"

"No one can see in here. Our partition is down but everyone else's is up. Including Karin's. Fool around with me."

"How many glasses of champagne have you had?" I ask. "I'm sure the flight attendants can see in here when they walk by."

"So what. Who cares?" he asks.

"So…" I start. "Despite your blasé attitude and carelessness about, well, everything, you are a minor celebrity, you know. People are interested in who your girl-of-the-moment is."

"Pfft," Sasuke says. "I'm not minor. I'm fucking major, baby."

I jump back when a flight attendant interrupts us, offering champagne. Sasuke charms the pants off her, and has her giggling and leaving us the bottle in less than ten seconds. With her phone number beside it.

He pours a glass and hands it to me. "What?" he asks, when he sees my face.

I shake my head. "That's what I'm talking about."

"You're jealous of the flight attendant?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. I mean, okay, you were totally flirting with her and everything. But I know that's just how you are. And she did leave you her number."

"Which I promptly tossed in the trash. Oh, you are jealous," he says, his voice sing-songy. "I love that you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous. I'm saying that people remember you. Even if they don't know who you are, they remember you. I mean, look at you," I say, gesturing down the length of him. I had a point with this. What was my point? Okay, maybe seeing Sasuke charm the pants off the flight attendant threw me off a little bit. "You're hot. You're hot…and, basically, you're fucking ripped….and tattooed….and even if you weren't all of that, your eyes, I mean, they're just so…"

"No, no," he says. "Don't stop. Keep going. What else do you love about me?"

"What?" My voice comes out like a squeak. "Who said anything about love?"

Sasuke shrugs. "You're the one going on and on about how sexy I am, and how you can't stand that anyone else is even looking at me –"

"That was not the point I was making," I say. "I'm just saying that you're memorable. And people do not need to remember me with you."

Sasuke studies me, and the intensity of his gaze makes me blush. Damn it, he's always making me blush. "So you're just looking out for me."

"Exactly!" I say. "I'm looking out for your best interests. It's my new job."

Sasuke leans closer to me, reaches over to my seat, and runs his hand up my leg. "I'm glad we're a team."

"Is that some kind of innuendo?"

He makes an exasperated sound. "I'm glad your dad assigned you to me. Not everything that comes out of my mouth is an innuendo, Delaney."

"You were just talking about joining the mile high club and you have your hand on my leg. Plus, pretty much everything you say to me is innuendo."

"That's not true," he says, and his forehead wrinkles. For a second, I think he looks almost…hurt.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," I say, my voice halting.

"Do you think he did it on purpose?" Sasuke asks.

"Did what? Who?"

"Do you think your dad knows?"

My heart stops. "No, of course not," I say quickly. "Wait, do you think he knows?"

Sasuke shrugs. "I don't know," he says. "I was just wondering if he was…trying to get us together or something."

I almost spit out my champagne. "No," I say. "Definitely not. Are you kidding?"

"Is it so bad?"

"What, you and me?" My voice is too loud, and I drop it to just above a whisper. "Are you asking about if you and I got together?"

"No," Sasuke says, and averts his eyes. "Forget I said anything." He lies back in his seat and closes his eyes.

Shit. I feel like someone punched me in the gut. But Sasuke asking what my father would think if we got together is insane on so many levels. "I thought you were joking," I say lamely.

Sasuke's eyes remain closed. He was joking, wasn't he? I nudge his arm, but he doesn't open his eyes. "Stop ignoring me. Are you screwing around with me? You're asking what my father would think about the two of us? He would absolutely kill you. And me. Maybe me first. He'd definitely fire me. And you. And probably disown me. You're my…" I lower my voice to a whisper. "Brother."

He opens his eyes and looks at me. "Step-brother," he says. "And yeah, whatever, I was totally just kidding. Hooking up is one thing, but what am I going to do, date you?" His voice is nonchalant, but there's an edge to it that wasn't there before.

Crap. Now I really feel like someone punched me in the gut.

Sasuke sinks back against his seat and I sit back in mine, the silence between us deafening, acting as if nothing happened.

Except it feels like everything just happened.

Sometimes the most important conversations start like the most innocuous ones in the world, no big deal, and then they just spiral out of control of their own accord. I want to rewind the last twenty minutes and do it all over again. But this time, I'd actually say the right words.

Except I'm not sure what I would say. Was Sasuke hinting that he wanted to date me? I don't even know how that would work, even if we weren't step-siblings. I already know Sasuke. We have history. Would we sit at dinner and go to movies and pretend to get to know each other?

I close my eyes, faking sleep. How the hell did I get myself into this situation?

And why can't I stop thinking about what Sasuke said?


	25. 23

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV

It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks in Japan -- I don't even know where the hell we've been, to be honest. The first week I was too jet-lagged to notice much of anything, and content to just be told where to go and what to do. Photo shoots, interviews, appearances, one right after the other. I shot some television commercials, but I don't even know what the products were. Cologne, I think – nothing bike-related. And an ad for one of those little canned coffee drinks. It's all a blur.

And in the middle of that blur is Sakura. Always Sakura. I'm still hooking up with her, sneaking into her hotel room at night after Karin has gone to bed. The sex hasn't changed – it's still as hot as hell. That in and of itself is a fucking miracle. I've never had so much sex with one girl.

The thing is, it's bugging me.

I want – shit, I don't know what I want. I want to be around Sakura all the damn time. I can't get enough of her laugh, or the way she blushes when I embarrass her, which is a lot, or how she's so professional when we're out somewhere and she's handling me…and then she's mine, totally mine, in bed. When I'm with her…it's just easy.

Except that everything has felt off since the flight. Or maybe it's not off for her -- I can't tell. I don't know why the hell I brought up dating, anyway. I wouldn't know the first thing about dating some girl, much less Sakura. Sakura is sure as fuck not any regular girl, even if she weren't kind-of related to me. The whole stepsister thing doesn't bother me like it apparently does her, anyway.

I answer the knock on the door because I know it's Sakura. Pulling on my Haruno Oil polo shirt, I yank it open. Sakura is wearing black slacks and a polo shirt that matches mine, her hair in a ponytail, messenger bag slung across her chest. Her face is still flushed. "Good morning, Ms. Haruno," I say.

It's a great fucking morning, actually. Sakura is coming from her hotel room and her shower, but only because she sneaked back over there this morning after a little morning sex.

She rolls her eyes. "Good morning, Sasuke," she says. But she's smiling.

Reaching forward, I grab the front of her shirt and pull her into the entryway of my room, out of the hallway, so I can kiss her.

"Stop," she whispers. "Karin will be out here any second."

"When are you going to stop giving a shit what that bitch thinks?" I ask.

She slaps me lightly on the chest. "When there's no chance of my father finding out what we've been doing," she says. "Now, are you going to go over answers to questions? Remember the product placement. Do you have your hat?"

"I'm not talking about the interview with you," I tell her. "I'm bored with this shit. Pick another topic. Like how I want to unbutton your pants right now and put my fingers inside you."

"You better take this seriously," she says. "You have an interview in two hours."

"Then you should make sure I'm prepped."

"Your version of prepped and mine are not the same thing."

I hear a door slam and Karin comes into view. Sakura takes a giant step back from me, and the fact that she steps away pisses me the fuck off. The fact that Sakura gives a crap what Karin thinks pisses me off.

"Has Sakura prepared you for the interview?" Karin asks, her voice clipped. She doesn't wait for an answer. "Well, come on. Traffic will be terrible and Sakura, do you think that this time, you could make sure to ask for a cab with air conditioning? Remember the product placement. Do you have your hat?"

"Look," I say. "Sakura might think she has to put up with your condescending attitude and your bullshit, but I really don't have to. And if you talk to her again the way you did a second ago, I'll make sure Beau knows exactly how uncomfortable I am working with you."

Karin steels her gaze at me, but by the time she opens her mouth to say something, Sakura is back.

"The cab is out front," Sakura says brightly. "Air conditioned. And we're only fifteen minutes from the hotel where the interview is. Are you ready?"

Karin looks back and forth from me to Sakura. "Absolutely," she says. "Thanks so much for negotiating that, Sakura."

Sakura gives me a questioning look when we get in the cab, and I shrug. Karin's politeness should feel like a victory, but I just hope it doesn't blow back on Sakura.

Two days later, the blowback happened.

"Her phone is off," Sakura says. "It's going to voicemail. It never goes to voicemail."

I shrug. "We were supposed to meet here at eight, right?"

"That's what my schedule says." Sakura checks her phone for the hundredth time. "It's dinner with Utakata-san. I don't think anything changed. What do we do?"

"Do you have his number?"

"I have his office number," Sakura says, giving me a look. "I don't have his personal one. I left a message. What should we do? It was supposed to be a business dinner and then he was taking us out on the town."

I slide my hand around Sakura's waist, right there in the hotel lobby, and she smacks it away. "Sasuke, don't," she says.

"There is literally no one here watching us."

"Only because it's impolite to stare," she whispers. "PDA is not appropriate here. And people will watch but not tell you you're doing something wrong, because that is not polite. But someone will notice. Trust me."

I exhale heavily. Sakura is standing there, looking insane in this white dress that shimmers under the lights. It's simple and elegant and looks like it was made for her, skimming over every curve and showing off her amazing legs.

I want to take it off her immediately. But she walks away and talks to the concierge. I see her gesturing, her forehead wrinkled up in the face she makes when she's upset, and then she bows slightly and returns to me.

"Well, that's weird," she says.

"What?"

"The concierge says that Utakata picked Karin up already. They left."

"Sweet." I'm not even going to pretend I wanted to have dinner with the businessman who had his eyes on my girl.

My girl. The thought just popped into my head like it was supposed to be there. I have the sudden impulse to say it out loud, just to make it real. Just to see Sakura's reaction. My girl.

Fuck that guy. I've had to be in the same room enough with him already.

"What do you mean, sweet?" she asks. "This is terrible."

"Fuck that guy," I say, my voice a little too loud, and Sakura looks around, hushing me and taking my elbow. She leads me to the elevator and pushes the up button, hard. Then again, a second later.

"I think it takes more than a half a second for the elevator to get here," I say.

Sakura glares at me. Shit, she's pissed. "You can't say that here," she says.

"I can't talk about the elevator?"

"You know what I meant," she says. "You can't say fuck anyone here."

"The fuck I can't," I say. "Fuck him and fuck Karin." The elevator door opens and we get inside.

"Why would she leave without us?" Sakura asks. "You're the most important part of this trip. The dinner and the tour were a big deal."

God, I can't resist the way she looks when she's upset. She's so damn cute when she's angry that I want to hug her. But more than that, I want to tear her dress off. I put my hands on her arms, and pressed her up against the side of the elevator.

"Sasuke, what are you doing? Not here," she protests.

"I'm not doing anything," I say, looking down at the eyes I haven't gotten the least bit tired of looking at. "There's nothing on the agenda for the weekend, right? This was it. The Tokyo tour tonight, right?"

"Yeah, and we're supposed to make nice with Utakata," she says. "It's a big deal. A traditional Japanese dinner and a tour before the trip is over. If you don't show, it's an insult."

"Maybe he decided he wanted to take Karin out," I say. "He seemed like a bit of a ladies man, didn't he?"

She shakes her head. "I think Karin ditched us," she says.

"Sakura," I say, tilting her head up and looking in her eyes. "Calm down. It'll be fine. I think she had the hots for Utakata anyway. Karin is pretty ruthless in what she pursues."

Sakura is silent. "Well, shit," she says. "What do we do now? And I swear to God, if you say we go back to the hotel room and do it, I'm going to knee you right in the balls."

"You don't want to do it?" I ask, running my finger down her arm until I reach her fingers. I take her hand and slide it along my chest, just because I want to feel her touch. "It might make you less stressed."

Sakura purses her lips and looks at me, then she finally sighs and smiles. "There's nothing we can do about it, can we?" she asks. "Do you want to go back to the hotel room?'

I look at her for a second, and then suddenly I don't. When the door opens, I hit the down button. "Nope."

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"We just got ditched, and I've got a night with you," I say. "A whole weekend, come to think of it. Here you are, looking fucking stunning, and I have you all to myself. I don't want to take you back to a hotel room."

"You don't," she says. "Where are we going?"

I can't resist doing what I do next. I slide my hands underneath her, cupping her legs and picking her up. "I'm taking you out."

"What? No."

"This city is huge, and I'm not wearing anything Haruno-related. No one knows who the hell I am," I say. "No one knows who the hell you are, either. And I want a tour of Tokyo."

"I don't know Tokyo," she says.

"You've been here before."

"Only for a semester," I say. "Only some of it in Tokyo."

"I don't care about the city," I tell her. And I mean it. "I want to hang out with you. So, show me around."

"Fine. On one condition," she says.

"What?"

"Put me the hell down so everyone in the lobby doesn't see my ass when the door opens."

"Deal." I cup a handful of her ass for good measure, and feel the lace thong she's wearing. "Panties again?"

She drops to the ground, and slaps me playfully on the arm. "It was a work dinner," she says. "You think I was going to go commando? That's kind of sketchy, isn't it?"

"It's not a work dinner anymore," I tell her. "So those are coming off."

But the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Sakura smiles triumphantly. "Saved by the bell," she says, as she walks out ahead of me. She doesn't consult the concierge this time, just walks out the door. "Okay. Let's do it."


	26. 24

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sakura POV

We sit across from each other in a crowded izakaya in Shibuya, after passing a million little bars and restaurants that showcase plastic versions of their foods in the windows. Sasuke sips his Sake and chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and the sound is infectious. He's relaxed, for the first time in weeks, and I finally feel calm, away from Karin and work and the hotel and everything. The izakaya is crowded, yet it feels like Sasuke and I are the only two people in the room.

"You love it here," Sasuke says.

"Yeah," I tell him. "I was here for a semester. Not in Tokyo, really. I mean, I traveled, but I was mostly down south. Just enough time to fall in love but not enough time to really let the little things start to annoy me, you know?"

Sasuke sips his Sake and looks at me. "Kind of like us."

My heart practically stops and I take a long gulp of my chu-hi, a drink made from soda and shochu, but tastes dangerously just like plain soda. "You do plenty of things to annoy me," I say, assuring myself that Sasuke was simply making a silly comparison that meant nothing.

"Yet you're still here with me, and about to spend the weekend with me," he says, popping a piece of sashimi into his mouth. "You only pretend to hate me."

"I never hated you," I protested.

Sasuke groans. "Are you kidding?" he asks. "Hate isn't even nearly accurate. Loathe my very presence would be far more accurate."

I laugh. "When did I loathe your presence?"

"Well, definitely not last night," he says, smirking. "But remember the first summer after our parents got married?"

"I was seventeen," I say. "I hated everything."

"Especially me."

"You were a jerk, with your stupid friends who thought they were better than everyone. And the stupid girls you dated and brought home all the time –"

"You just hated to see me with anyone else," Sasuke says. He crosses his hands over his chest and looks so damn smug, so sure of himself as he sits there staring at me, that I want to throw my drink at him. Instead, I kick him under the table and he just laughs. "You're mad because you know it's true."

"I'm mad because you were a complete tool and you know it," I say. But I can still remember the pang of irritation I'd get when Sasuke would parade his floozies through the house like he owned the place. I hated him.

I might have also loved him.

Maybe this whole thing is just one long continuation of how I felt when I was seventeen. I thought that being with him would get him out of my system, but it seems to be having the opposite effect. It's made me want more of him – more time with him, more everything. And wanting someone like Sasuke – someone who doesn't stay with one girl -- is dangerous.

I watch as he dips his gyoza into sauce and then pops the dumpling in his mouth, and I try to remind myself that this thing with us is just sex. Sure, it's good sex. Amazing sex. Curl-my-toes and call-my-girlfriends sex. But that's all it can be. Even if my father had some kind of personality transplant that made him suddenly approve of this train wreck of a relationship, it's Sasuke. Sasuke with women constantly throwing themselves at him. Sasuke, the consummate flirt.

"Hey," he says. "Where are you?"

"Huh? Oh, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Where I should take you," I lie.

"Come on," he says, taking my hand. "Let's get out of here."

We walk along the streets, looking in the windows of the shops and people-watching as couples and friends gather around the entrances to bars and restaurants that line the sidewalks, smoking and drinking while they wait. And we talk, non-stop, for a while, about life and our families. I tell Sasuke about my absentee mother, and how she wants me to return to Suna.

"Does she hate that you came to live with your father?" he asks.

"Totally. She can't stand him."

I ask Sasuke about his father. "You never talk about him."

Sasuke shrugs. "He never wanted anything to do with us," he says. "Mikoto raised me. Or, well, a nanny raised me. And then boarding school. I don't know how your father ended up with her, you know?"

"He definitely has a type. My mother isn't so different from Mikoto, I don't think." I pause as we stop at a little shop, looking in the window but not actually looking. "I don't want to end up like them."

Sasuke stares into the window, but he takes my hand in his. "I'm not my father's only child," he says. "According to Mikoto, he's a total philanderer – woman after woman, you know? I always swore I'd never end up like him."

"Well, unless you've got a bunch of little Sasukes running around, I don't think you're in danger of that," I say, my voice light, trying to force a casualness I definitely don't feel. Why is it that I do that?

Why do I feel so vulnerable when I'm with him?

Sasuke tugs at my hand and pulls me close to him, runs his hand through my hair. "There are no mini-Sasuke's running around," he says. "I don't want to end up like him. Honestly."

"Then don't," I say, my voice casual. He looks at me intently for a second, and it's too much. I turn and clear my throat. "You don't have to, you know. It's not like, written in your DNA or something."

He's walking beside me and I have no idea where we're going. "You've seen our parents," he says. "You still believe in happy ever after? They're not happy."

"I think you make your own happiness," I say, sounding surer of it than I feel. "God, since when did you get so freaking philosophical?"

Sasuke smirks. "It's the alcohol and the weather and shit," he says. "Warm summer night, the city, I don't know. I'm a little buzzed, but I'm a total buzzkill, yeah?"

I punch him on the arm, and he gropes my ass over my dress, but I squeal and jump away. "I just didn't know you were so damn sappy," I say. "One minute you're telling me to drop my panties and the next you're talking about fairy tales and shit."

Sasuke takes me by the hand and pulls me down the nearest side street, deserted and dimly lit except for one entrance to a hotel that I recognize as a love hotel. I giggle. "Are you going to take me to a love hotel?"

He pushes me up against the wall of one of the buildings, his hand running up my thigh.

"Sappy, huh? Is that what I am now?" he asks. "No idea what a love hotel is, but I've got half a mind to put my cock into that smart mouth of yours right out here."

"It's – " I'm about to tell him it's a sex hotel, but he stops me by covering my mouth with his. My body responds immediately to his touch, and I moan as he runs his hands up my hips and underneath my skirt.

A Japanese couple enters the street, a few yards away, and a woman giggles when she sees us. I push Sasuke back, smoothing my skirt. "Shit, let's get out of here."

As we walk back in the direction of the hotel, Sasuke grabs my hand and I don't push it away or let it go. It feels nice. It feels comfortable. When we pass a sign outside the entrance to one of the hotels that advertises a bar on one of the upper floors with live jazz and a view of the city, Sasuke pulls at my arm. "Let's go inside."

"Don't you want to go back to the hotel?"

He slides his hand over my lower back, and navigates me inside. His touch, at once comforting and possessive, sends a shiver up my spine. Behind me, he speaks low into my ear. "Not yet," he says.

Inside the bar, we stand next to a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the lights of the city. I turn to him. "You're not trying to avoid sleeping with me, are you?"

Sasuke chokes on his drink. "You're kidding, right?"

"We're just – I mean," I stammer, feeling stupid for even saying anything. "Because if you wanted to stop this, it's okay."

Sasuke's hand is on my waist. "Do you want to stop this?"

"No," I say. But my voice catches in my throat. I should want to stop this; that would be the smart choice. I'm a person who makes smart choices. I don't make reckless ones. And Sasuke is reckless. I find myself throwing caution to the wind when I'm with him, doing things I wouldn't normally do.

He pulls me against him, his arm snaking around to the small of my back, and I can feel his hardness pressing against my leg. "Does that answer your question?" Heat rushes between my legs at the sensation. "Yes," I say, choking on the word.

"Good," he says. "Because I want your panties."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says, his voice low in my ear. "You apparently think that just because I'm interested in talking to you and listening to what the hell you have to say, that it means I don't want to put my cock in that sweet pussy of yours just as soon as I get you alone. So I want you to be ready for me, in case I want to bend you over and fuck you on the way back to the hotel."

I laugh nervously, but lean closer to him. The heat from his body radiates through my dress and it makes me want more. "I'll go to the restroom and take them off for you."

"Take them off right here," Sasuke says, his hand sliding up to the middle of my back. He pins me firmly against him. Then he looks to the side, and takes a sip of his drink as if we're casually discussing the weather and not removing my panties in the middle of a very crowded, very public, very classy place.

"There are a million people around," I say. "I refuse."

He spins me around, but instead of his hand on the small of my back, guiding me gently, he threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. He steers me through the crowd, leading me by my hair, and talking to me the entire time. "You're going to slip your hands up under your skirt and take your panties off right here in this bar, and then you're going to hand them to me. Because I asked you to."

Sasuke stops at the bar as we pass it, taking my glass from my hand and setting both glasses down before leading me to a dimly-lit corner. There, he stands in front of me, his body only partially shielding me from view, leaning with his forearm on the wall over my head.

My eyes never leave his as I sneak my hand up one side of my skirt, yanking down the edge of my thong, and then do the same with the other side, shimmying as my panties slide down my thighs and drop to the floor around my ankles.

He's making you reckless, I think. The rational part of me nags at my thoughts. He's making you reckless and reckless is not good.

Sasuke sinks to the floor at my feet, picking up the panties in his hand and slipping them into his pocket. "Good girl," he says. He traces a finger down my neckline and between my cleavage. "Now, tell me we're close to the hotel, because if we're not, I'm going to have to fuck you right here in the middle of this bar."

"Close." I choke out the word. I don't mean the hotel. I'm so close.

He leans in, his lips inches from mine, and smiles. "I can see that, darlin'," he says. "You pretend you don't like it, and you can protest all you want, but taking off your panties in the middle of this bar made you wet."

"No," I say.

"No," he says, studying my face. "That's not all of it, is it? You like when I tell you what to do."

I realize, with growing horror, that he's right. "No way," I protest.

Sasuke grins. He realizes that he's right, and that I know it. "It's okay, darlin'," he says, then he drops his voice. "I like it."

I laugh. "Of course you do," I say. "And it's not accurate."

"No?" he asks. He trails his finger over my collarbone and to the top of my shoulder. Sasuke has a way of making the most innocuous gesture completely sexual. "Then I won't tell you that in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to spin your ass around, walk you out of this bar through all the people you just took your panties off in front of, and take you back to the hotel. When we walk into the hotel room, you're going to drop to your knees before the door shuts."

He pauses, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to continue. My head tells me it's ridiculous for me to stand here and listen to him tell me what he wants me to do, yet the throbbing between my legs is insistent. It distracts me from the rational thoughts in my head. "Yes," I say, more of a murmur than an actual coherent word.

Sasuke has his hand on the small of my back, and he leads me out of the bar and down to the elevator. The young Japanese couple in the elevator nods at us, then studies their phones as Sasuke runs his hand up my back and whispers softly in my ear. "Are you wet yet, darlin'?"

The girl in the elevator glances at me, then back at her phone and my face flushes red. When we're out of the elevator, I smack Sasuke hard on the arm. "She heard you," I say.

Sasuke shrugs. "You didn't answer me," he says, as we walk on the sidewalk. "Are you wet?"

Of course I am. He knows I am. Apparently, he knows better than I do what turns me on. But I don't say any of that. I just say, "Yes."

"How far are we from the hotel?"

"A few minutes, I think."

"Good," he says. "Because I'm going to spend the rest of the walk back telling you exactly what I want to do to you."


	27. 25

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV

I can't fucking see straight. I'm wound so tight after spending the last fifteen minutes telling Sakura what I want to do to her. I hope she's as wrapped around the axle as I am. There's something about her that makes me crazy.

We're still a block away from the hotel when I realize Sakura is limping. "What's wrong?"

She kicks up one of her feet and sighs. "The perils of wearing heels in Japan," she says. "I don't know how the girls here do it, walking everywhere in stilettos. They must be masochists."

"Fuck walking," I say, and I pick her up before she can protest, but she does anyway.

"What are you doing?" she squeals.

"How far away from the hotel are we?" I ask.

"I don't know, a block, I think," she says. "Put me down before someone sees."

"Afraid not." I keep carrying her, ignoring the looks I get from strangers on the sidewalk. A couple of expats laugh as we pass them, and I explain, "She's totally drunk."

Sakura hits me on the shoulder. "I am not! Don't say that."

"You could be," I say. "If anyone sees us, that's the excuse I'm going with."

"Do not," she orders.

"I don't see where you're really in a position to argue about anything with me here," I point out. "Anyway, I've never carried a girl through the streets of Tokyo before, so you should stop your griping and enjoy the ride." I pause for a beat. "The same rule applies to the sex later on tonight."

"Very funny," she says, and she slaps me again when we walk through the lobby of the hotel. "Put me down."

"I don't think so," I say. When we passed the concierge, I explained, "She hurt her foot."

Sakura huffs, but she doesn't fling herself out of my arms, either. When we're in the elevator and alone, she turns her head and kisses me. We're still kissing when the door opens and I back out into the hallway with her in my arms, spinning her around.

And then I see her.

Karin stares at me, her eyes wide. And then a look – the smuggest, most self-satisfied goddamn look in the world – crosses her face. She says something to Utakata Ito, who reddens deeply.

Sakura followed my gaze behind her, and her face turned ashen. She slides down quickly, standing and smoothing her dress. "Karin. Utakata-san," she says.

"I'm incredibly sorry to disturb your evening, Sakura." Karin's voice drips with sarcasm.

"Sasuke was just helping me. My feet were –" She speaks in Japanese to Utakata, something I don't understand, then bows deeply. Utakata gives her a barely perceptible nod of his head, and walks past us into the elevator.

When the elevator doors close, the three of us stand there, paused like we're frozen. Then Sakura finally speaks. "How could you?"

Karin raises her eyebrows. "How could I?" she asks. "You're screwing your own brother and you want to know how I could? I was just scouting a new job; I had no idea the two of you would set things up so nicely for me. Perfect timing, I have to say. Your father will be pleased."

My blood is fucking boiling, but Sakura is the one who looks like she's going to explode. She walks up to Karin and slaps her so hard across the face that the sound echoes in the hallway. Karin puts her hand to her cheek. "You stupid, spoiled bitch. You're going to fucking regret that," she says. Then she directs her attention to me. "And you – you trash, entitled, lazy shit. I knew there was something wrong with you when you turned me down in Kiri. It turns out you're only into girls who are related to you."

"Fuck you, Karin," I say. I don't hit women, but if there were ever a time I'd consider it, it would be now. I reach for Sakura's arm, but she shakes me off.

Karin storms past us, around the corner, and I can hear her hotel door slam.

"Sakura, I –" I start, but she won't look at me. I can see tears on the side of her cheek, and I swear to God my heart is going to fucking rip in two at the sight of her crying.

"I told you not to carry me up here," she says, her voice angry. "Everything is ruined."

"Your father is not going to listen to that stupid bitch," I say. "I'll talk to him too."

She shakes her head, walking to her room, and I follow her. "Don't you get it?" she asks.

"Get what?" I ask. "That Karin is a power-hungry whore who's trying to get back at you because you're smarter than her and better at this than she is? That she's pissed because I wouldn't screw her, and that she just fucked up your father's deal? I get that, Sakura. Now let me inside so we can talk about this."

"You don't understand what just happened," Sakura says, shaking her head. "Karin told Utakata we couldn't make dinner. She gave him some bullshit excuse to get us out of the way so she could sweet-talk him into hiring her or something, and then he sees us like that? It's horrific."

"It's not ideal," I agree. But horrific?

"Not ideal?" she says. "It's the worst possible thing. We embarrassed Utakata-san. We humiliated him. He can't possibly do this deal now. It's completely ruined. The company is not going to sponsor you. We killed everything."

"We can explain," I say. "Let me come inside your room. Let's talk about it rationally."

"There's no explaining," she says. "There's no apologizing our way out of it. He can't accept our apology. It won't allow him to save face – it's too embarrassing. It's over."

"Your father will understand," I say. "You're his daughter."

Sakura laughs, the sound bitter. "And you're going to talk to my father?" she asks. "What are you going to say exactly? Hey, Kizashi, I know she's my sister and all, and your daughter, but I've been lusting after her since you and mom got married. And oh, by the way, I've been fucking her brains out. Let me know how that goes."

Fear clenches at my heart. "We should talk about it." I don't know what else to say.

"There's nothing to talk about, Sasuke," she says. "Goodnight."

Anger and adrenaline are coursing through my veins, and it takes everything I have not to push the fucking door open and storm into her room and force her to listen to me. Goddamn it, she has to see reason.

But instead I let her close the door, and I walk away. The door shuts with such a fucking sense of finality that I'm rendered almost speechless, and I stand there in the hallway, my blood pumping as I think about how the world just fucking shifted on its axis in a matter of seconds.

Sakura doesn't answer when I knock on her door in the morning, and I return to my room with a sense of unease I can't shake. Sakura looked just so…crushed last night.

Her last words to me echo in my head, rattling around in my brain on a loop, repeated over and over.

Goodnight, Sasuke.

It sounded a hell of a lot more like goodbye.


	28. 26

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sakura POV

The knock on the door in the morning startles me. When I answer, my hair plastered to the side of my face, no one's there. I barely slept last night, gutted over what happened. I wonder if Karin is on her way back to Konoha already, the bearer of such fantastic fucking news that my father will probably have a coronary.

I need to call my father. I don't know how to explain any of it. I really can't face him.

And I can't face Sasuke, either.

How can things go from being so high to crashing down so low in a matter of minutes? Last night with Sasuke, I was happy. I was deliriously, irrepressibly, recklessly happy. A part of me knew it wouldn't last, just like part of me this morning longs to go to Sasuke, to tell him that it doesn't matter, that we shouldn't give a shit what anyone else thinks.

Except it's Sasuke, the guy who doesn't spend time with women outside the bedroom. The guy who doesn't date. Perpetual manwhore, always risk-taking, never-going-to-grow-up Sasuke. And the most important part – my step-brother. What the hell would I say to him?

I think I might love you.

The realization nearly takes my breath away.

Then I know what I have to do.

Sasuke POV

I listen to the clerk at the front desk relay the message, and I can hear the words, but I don't want to believe them. Sakura couldn't have just left Tokyo without saying anything. She wouldn't.

I'm angry at her for running away. I'm angry at her for being so fucking juvenile that she's taken an earlier flight just hours before our scheduled one so she doesn't have to be on the same flight as me.

I hope that she's on her way back to Konoha to talk to Kizashi, and not going straight to her mother's house in Suna. Not that I expect she'll stick around in Konoha, after how embarrassed she was at being discovered.

Goddamn it, how am I the one who's behaving rationally? How am I the one acting like an adult here? Yes, the deal with Utakata is off, but that's not the worst thing in the world. And the step-sibling relationship…I want to grab Sakura by the arms and shake her, to tell her that it's really not that big of a deal. We're not actually related. Our parents met when we were basically adults.

During the long flight, I think about what I want to say to Sakura. I also think about what I already said to her father in the email. I meant every word.

I'm just hoping that she'll be there so I can say the same thing in person.

I'm also hoping her father doesn't point a shotgun at me when I show up.


	29. 27

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sakura POV

"You dirty skanky ho." Sai's voice on the other end of the phone is the first thing I hear as I debark the plane.

"Oh God," I say. "How did you find out?"

"Gossip site," he says. "I'm so proud of you."

"What?" I can't process what he's saying. I'm just thinking about the fact that this has gone public, before I can even talk to my father. Before I can do damage control. I'm very close to bursting into tears. "I don't know what to do –"

"Oh, shit," Sai says, his voice concerned. "Are you crying? I didn't mean you were a skanky ho for real. You're totally not. I'm jealous that you hooked up with Sasuke. Why the fuck didn't you tell me? When did it happen?"

I'm choking back tears as I walk through the airport, following the signs for baggage claim. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Where are you? Are you in Konoha yet? Have you seen your father?" He peppers me with questions. "Please don't cry. It's not terrible. There's nothing wrong with it, doll. Nothing. You're adults. And you're not related. And Sasuke is gorgeous. Was the sex good? I know it was good, you don't even have to tell me."

I don't know which of his thousand questions to answer first. The sex was great. The sex was amazing. "We were out, and my feet were hurting, and Sasuke carried me for like two blocks through the city and back to the hotel room. And we ran into Karin and I left Japan, and I haven't talked to Sasuke and he probably thinks that I hate him and –" I stop, partly because I'm a runaway train and partly because I don't know what else to say.

Sai is quiet on the other end of the phone. "Did you hang up?" I ask.

"Oh my God," he says. "You love him."

"What?" I shake my head. "No. It's not possible. I'm not even sure I like him." That's a lie and I know it is. The words ring false even as I speak them out loud.

"Do you want me to meet you at your dad's house?" Sai asks. "You know if you need a place to stay, the door is open."

"I'll let you know after the conversation with my father," I say. "If I'm still alive."

I'm so distracted by looking for my bags that I answer the phone when it rings again without looking at the screen, thinking it's Sai. "If you're calling back to get all the juicy details, I won't – "

"What the hell were you thinking?" My mother's voice is shrill. Shit. I wrestled my suitcase off the conveyor belt in baggage claim, regretting not looking before I answered the phone. In my frustration, I yank the suitcase so hard that it lands on the floor with a loud thud and the person beside me stares.

"I don't know what you're talking about, mother," I lie. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, damn it. How could she have found out?

She unleashes a barrage at me over the phone, her voice going higher and higher the more she talks. "I knew it was a bad idea to let you go to your father's house," she yells. "With that washed-up model wife of his and that filthy son. I just didn't expect you to behave like a stupid little slut."

"Don't talk about them that way." My voice sounds small, my protest meager, and the room feels like it's spinning. I watch as people pass by me, walking quickly to wherever they're going. They're meeting loved ones, having joyful reunions, and I suddenly miss Sasuke.

Why did I just leave? I could have gone to him and told him how I felt. I could have told him how I feel – present tense. Or how I think I feel.

The thing is that I'm not sure about anything, and Sasuke most of all. And I'm definitely not sure Sasuke feels the same way about me.

"You will get on the next flight back to Suna," my mother says. "I've hired someone who fixes these things, someone who will do damage control. You're ill and you're going to rehab. And you're never going back to your father's place again. You will not see that boy again. Do you hear me?"

I can't help but hear her. Her voice sounds unreasonably loud on the phone, ringing in my ear as I stand there motionless. A couple passes me, the man and woman holding their young daughter's hands. "That's not going to happen, mother," I say. "I'm not coming back to Suna. I'm not going to rehab. And I'll see whoever I want."

My mother screeches and I hang up the phone, feeling strangely disconnected from everything, as if I'm having an out-of-body experience. In the cab on the way to my father's house, I feel oddly numb as I watch the scenery fly by in a blur.

When we arrive at the house, I don't even register the location for a moment. I'm tempted to tell the driver to leave the car running, because I may be back out the door in a few minutes. Fired and probably disowned.

But I don't. I walk numbly down the hallway, and one of the housekeepers greets me with a terse look. "Ms. Haruno," she says. "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow morning."

"I'm back early," I say. As if that offers an explanation for everything. "Is my father here, or at the office?"

Chiyo shakes her head. "It's not so good," she says. "He's in the study, but you shouldn't - "

Crap. So he's heard, and if the staff already knows, that means it's even worse than I thought. I smooth the fabric of my skirt as if doing so will make me somehow presentable and professional.

As if that will somehow erase everything that's happened.

I walked down the hallway to my father's study, resigned to my fate, and knocked on the door.

"Come in," he says, and I can tell his voice is strained even before I pull open the door. He's sitting in the corner of the room in his leather armchair, drinking a glass of scotch. Just sitting there. No work, no book, no computer, nothing.

My heart sinks. This is a lot worse than I thought.

"Sakura," he says. The way he looks at me, disappointment and pain in his eyes, makes my heart break. I've never seen him look at me like this.

"I know you've heard what happened, but I can explain," I say, my voice rushing and rambling as I step inside the office. As soon as I open my mouth, my words gather momentum, spiraling out of control. "Karin set us up, told Utakata-san something, I don't know what, that we were sick maybe, because she wanted a job with him, I think? I'm not sure. She hates me. She's hated me since the beginning and I didn't want to say anything because I wanted to stand on my own at Haruno. Even if it's your company, and you're my father. And then we walked off the elevator and Karin and Utakata were right there and it was –"

My father holds up his hand, halting me. "I know," he says. "Sasuke told me the whole story already. He explained everything."

"He did?" I ask. "But – I don't understand. He's still in Tokyo. Or…on a flight. I came back early."

"He sent an email," he says. "It was all in the email."

"Do you hate me?" I ask. "You hate me, right? You hate Sasuke."

Kizashi sighs. "Of course I don't hate you."

"But you're – you're sitting here in the office, with the lights out, drinking scotch, and you're – not happy, obviously."

Kizashi looks at me as he takes another sip of his scotch, his face tired. "Mikoto left," he says. "We're divorcing. I finally told her to leave."

"Oh my God." I stand there, motionless, my heart pounding in my chest. Shit. It's our fault. "Because of Sasuke and I?"

My father's brow furrows. "What? You and Sasuke?" he asks. "Don't be ridiculous."

"But – it's not because of us."

He waves his hand dismissively. "She left last night," he says. "I didn't even read Sasuke's email until this morning."

"But…what happened?"

Kizashi looks at me, his head cocked to the side. "It was obvious, wasn't it? It's been coming for a long time. She was an alcoholic, and…well, not a very good person at all, as it turns out. She'd been cheating on me. With the yoga instructor. Who's twenty-three."

My hand flies to my mouth. "Dad. I'm so sorry."

Kizashi smiles sadly. "I sure can pick 'em, can't I?"

"Dad, I – I don't know what to say."

He clears his throat and shakes his head, standing up to set his empty glass down at the bar, before walking over to me and drawing me into a hug. I stand here, my head against his chest for a moment, feeling like a kid again. Then, his big hands on my arms, he pushes me back and takes a long look at me. "My problems are not your problems," he says. "Your mother called here, by the way."

I exhale forcefully. "I know," I say. "I got her phone call."

"I tried to make her see reason," he says. "But you know how she is. I can only imagine what that call was like for you."

"I don't know if we're speaking anymore," I say. "Dad, I ruined everything. How can you not be angry?"

He waves his hand. "Utakata Ito can pull out of the deal if he wants to," he says, shrugging. "There's a morality clause Sasuke very well could have broken all on his own anyway. There will be other sponsors."

"You're not mad about the deal," I say.

My father walks over to his bar and takes out a cigar. He clips the end of it slowly, looks at me like he's about to impart the most profound wisdom ever. But he just shrugs. "You win some, you lose some."

"That's it?" I ask. "It's millions of dollars."

"Honey, there will always be more money to make. It's replaceable. Besides," he says, with a sly smile, "I had an insurance policy on Utakata-san. And your boss Karin won't find she has the employment opportunities she thinks she has."

"What?" They sell insurance for this kind of thing? My father is having Karin black-balled?

"Not literal insurance," he says. "I had a back-up sponsor, someone waiting in the wings. Just in case. It's Sasuke we're talking about here."

"But Sasuke and I –" I start. "It's all over the news, the tabloids, supposedly. You're not upset?"

"I'm going to smoke this," he says, holding up his cigar and pointedly ignoring my question. "Come out onto the terrace with me."

I follow him outside and stand with him on the terrace that overlooks the grounds, while he lights his cigar, slowly and methodically, like some kind of ritual. He takes his time with it, and I wonder if he's even going to answer me. Finally he turns. "I've not been so lucky in the love department, you know."

"Dad, I – " I start, but he puts up his hand.

"Hush," he says. "I'm not asking you to reassure your father, or some such nonsense. I'm just stating the facts. My point is that I'm in no position to judge anyone else's relationship."

"We're not in a…" Relationship, I start to say. "Wait. So you don't care?"

Kizashi puffs on the cigar and then looks at me. "Let's not go that far," he says. "You're my only daughter. I'm not going to shoot off Sasuke's kneecaps when he walks in the door, if that's what you're asking. Even though I could."

Relief washes over me, and I can barely suppress my giggle. Okay, that might have been exactly what I was thinking. "I'm glad you're not going to murder him," I say.

"Are you happy?" he asks.

"I think so," I say, nodding. "Yeah. I'm happy. Or, I was happy. I don't even know if we're anything, or – I mean, Sasuke is Sasuke. I'm not sure he even feels the same about me, or –"

"The printout of the email is on the desk," Kizashi says. "I'm going to finish my cigar. Take it with you, and then you can decide."

"Are you sure everything's –"

"Go," he says. "It's on the desk. Read it. I didn't peg Sasuke for being so goddamned sappy, but if that's what you like…"

Sappy? I think. Sasuke is anything but sappy. "Thank you, dad."

"And Sakura?" He calls my name, his back facing me as he blows smoke out away from the terrace.

"Yeah, dad?"

"I'm still your goddamned father," he says. "You should make sure to let him know that if he breaks your heart, I've got multiple shotguns and access to a great defense attorney."

I choke back a laugh, but mostly because I'm not sure my father is joking. "Thanks, dad."

"Now, get out of here and leave me in peace," he says. His words are gruff, but his tone is playful. "And for Christ's sake, try to stay out of the tabloids, will you?"

I carry the email up to my room, but I don't look at it until I've closed the door. When I scan it, my hands are shaking. I'm not sure if I'm even supposed to be reading it.

But when I do, everything in the email blurs together, the words fading into the background while the three most important ones seem to jump off the page.

I love her.

Sasuke told my father he loves me. And I left him sitting at the hotel in Tokyo.


	30. 28

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV

A nearly thirteen hour flight back to Konoha and I've been on an internet blackout, of my own choosing. Before I even left Narita airport in Tokyo, my phone had been buzzing with text after text from people who'd seen the stupid story about Sakura and me on some gossip website. I'm sure that was all Karin's doing; the first call she probably made after quitting Haruno Oil was a tabloid.

When I started getting texts before boarding the plane, I read the first message, a "holy shit" text from one of the guys on my team, followed by a snarky one from an old booty call. Then I shut off my phone and spent the entire flight not checking my email and not logging into the internet. Instead, I alternated between lying in my seat not sleeping and thinking of Sakura and watching shitty movies and thinking about Sakura.

Kizashi hadn't responded to my email when I woke up this morning. So when I get to Sakura's house, I could very well be walking into a fucking war zone.

The concierge at the hotel said Sakura flew back to Konoha, so at least that's something. She didn't go straight to Suna. Of course, that doesn't mean she's going to stick around in Konoha at all.

I can't even imagine what Mikoto is going to say. This will confirm everything she's ever thought about me and the giant train wreck I am. I can picture her reaction now: "First, racing that stupid motorcycle of yours, and now this? Screwing your own sister? I knew you were white-trash, just like your father."

I don't even turn on my phone when we land. I should probably toss it in the trash and save myself from the thousand messages sure to tell me how disgusting it is for me to be screwing Sakura.

When my bag comes around the carousel, I groan. A big sticker reading "Notice of Inspection" is plastered to the front, and the entire suitcase is held together in the middle with a stretchy elastic cord because the zipper is broken.

Which is perfect, really. It's the icing on a shit cupcake.

A loud roll of thunder booms outside, a summer storm adding another layer of awesome to this goddamn day. Rain pours down through the uncovered spaces outside the terminal, and I just don't give a shit that I'm getting drenched as I'm walking down the sidewalk. Where are the fucking cabs around here when you need one?

A taxi slows down and pulls to the curb, and the driver gets out. "You're standing in the rain," he points out, not-so-helpfully.

"No shit," I say, handing him my suitcase. He looks at it distastefully. So now I'm getting the stink eye from a cab driver.

"Sasuke!" Sakura's voice comes out of nowhere. I whirl around to see her running down the sidewalk, waving her arms at me like a lunatic. When she catches up to me, she's short of breath. "We parked right there," she says, pointing to a car ten yards away, its hazard lights blinking.

"What? We who?" It's the wrong question to ask, but I'm thrown by the fact that she's chasing me down.

"Sai," she says. "One of my friends. He's – " She points to the guy a few feet away, who's wildly brandishing his plaid umbrella and talking loudly to an airport security guard.

"Yes, I know this is just an unloading area," he yells. "I'm not a complete imbecile. I can read a sign. My friend is right there and – oh, for shit's sake, I'm not even going to hear anything now."

"What is – who is that?" I ask. "I think he's about to assault that guard with his umbrella."

Sakura puts her hand on my chest. "Stop. Don't talk," she says. "I came here to say something. This is really not the place at all, in the middle of everything, with the fucking rain and this is probably the most unromantic place ever –"

"Look, do you need the cab or not?" The driver interrupts loudly, right at my side. "The meter's running."

"No! We do not need a cab!" Sakura yells, her voice sharp. "Will you just give us one fucking second?"

The driver curses at us, and my suitcase lands beside my feet with a thump.

"Oh my God," Sakura says, her voice exasperated. "I just wanted to say one thing –"

"Lady, if you and your boyfriend are done here, your friend there is about to get your car towed." The security guard calls over his shoulder

Now the whole situation is starting to become just ridiculous. Sakura is so clearly infuriated that I can't help but laugh.

Sakura holds up her hand without looking at the security guard. "No," she says. "I am not done here. We are not done here."

"Sakura, let's go." I put my hands on her arms and attempt to steer her toward her waiting car.

"I read your email to my father," she blurts out.

"You read my email?"

"He gave it to me," she says. "And he's not going to kill you. Or me. I mean, he might kill you, but only if you break my heart."

She's rambling the way she does when she gets nervous, and I'm barely following what she's saying, but it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

And then she stops, inhaling deeply before she lets out the words in one giant exhale. The words. "And I think I'm in love with you. I am in love with you. I love you."

I don't even wait until she's finished speaking before I bring my mouth down on hers, muting those words. It's like something out of a damn movie, me kissing her in the rain, her hands on my shirt, pulling me toward her, and we're in our own private world.

At least, we're in our own world for ten fucking seconds before the security guard taps me on the shoulder. "What does this look like, a hotel?" he asks. "Get your asses off the sidewalk and get in the car before I have it towed."

Sakura looks back and forth at him and me, her eyes wide, before she bursts out laughing. "Come on," she says. "Let's get the hell out of here."


	31. 29

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV

A nearly thirteen hour flight back to Konoha and I've been on an internet blackout, of my own choosing. Before I even left Narita airport in Tokyo, my phone had been buzzing with text after text from people who'd seen the stupid story about Sakura and me on some gossip website. I'm sure that was all Karin's doing; the first call she probably made after quitting Haruno Oil was a tabloid.

When I started getting texts before boarding the plane, I read the first message, a "holy shit" text from one of the guys on my team, followed by a snarky one from an old booty call. Then I shut off my phone and spent the entire flight not checking my email and not logging into the internet. Instead, I alternated between lying in my seat not sleeping and thinking of Sakura and watching shitty movies and thinking about Sakura.

Kizashi hadn't responded to my email when I woke up this morning. So when I get to Sakura's house, I could very well be walking into a fucking war zone.

The concierge at the hotel said Sakura flew back to Konoha, so at least that's something. She didn't go straight to Suna. Of course, that doesn't mean she's going to stick around in Konoha at all.

I can't even imagine what Mikoto is going to say. This will confirm everything she's ever thought about me and the giant train wreck I am. I can picture her reaction now: "First, racing that stupid motorcycle of yours, and now this? Screwing your own sister? I knew you were white-trash, just like your father."

I don't even turn on my phone when we land. I should probably toss it in the trash and save myself from the thousand messages sure to tell me how disgusting it is for me to be screwing Sakura.

When my bag comes around the carousel, I groan. A big sticker reading "Notice of Inspection" is plastered to the front, and the entire suitcase is held together in the middle with a stretchy elastic cord because the zipper is broken.

Which is perfect, really. It's the icing on a shit cupcake.

A loud roll of thunder booms outside, a summer storm adding another layer of awesome to this goddamn day. Rain pours down through the uncovered spaces outside the terminal, and I just don't give a shit that I'm getting drenched as I'm walking down the sidewalk. Where are the fucking cabs around here when you need one?

A taxi slows down and pulls to the curb, and the driver gets out. "You're standing in the rain," he points out, not-so-helpfully.

"No shit," I say, handing him my suitcase. He looks at it distastefully. So now I'm getting the stink eye from a cab driver.

"Sasuke!" Sakura's voice comes out of nowhere. I whirl around to see her running down the sidewalk, waving her arms at me like a lunatic. When she catches up to me, she's short of breath. "We parked right there," she says, pointing to a car ten yards away, its hazard lights blinking.

"What? We who?" It's the wrong question to ask, but I'm thrown by the fact that she's chasing me down.

"Sai," she says. "One of my friends. He's – " She points to the guy a few feet away, who's wildly brandishing his plaid umbrella and talking loudly to an airport security guard.

"Yes, I know this is just an unloading area," he yells. "I'm not a complete imbecile. I can read a sign. My friend is right there and – oh, for shit's sake, I'm not even going to hear anything now."

"What is – who is that?" I ask. "I think he's about to assault that guard with his umbrella."

Sakura puts her hand on my chest. "Stop. Don't talk," she says. "I came here to say something. This is really not the place at all, in the middle of everything, with the fucking rain and this is probably the most unromantic place ever –"

"Look, do you need the cab or not?" The driver interrupts loudly, right at my side. "The meter's running."

"No! We do not need a cab!" Sakura yells, her voice sharp. "Will you just give us one fucking second?"

The driver curses at us, and my suitcase lands beside my feet with a thump.

"Oh my God," Sakura says, her voice exasperated. "I just wanted to say one thing –"

"Lady, if you and your boyfriend are done here, your friend there is about to get your car towed." The security guard calls over his shoulder

Now the whole situation is starting to become just ridiculous. Sakura is so clearly infuriated that I can't help but laugh.

Sakura holds up her hand without looking at the security guard. "No," she says. "I am not done here. We are not done here."

"Sakura, let's go." I put my hands on her arms and attempt to steer her toward her waiting car.

"I read your email to my father," she blurts out.

"You read my email?"

"He gave it to me," she says. "And he's not going to kill you. Or me. I mean, he might kill you, but only if you break my heart."

She's rambling the way she does when she gets nervous, and I'm barely following what she's saying, but it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

And then she stops, inhaling deeply before she lets out the words in one giant exhale. The words. "And I think I'm in love with you. I am in love with you. I love you."

I don't even wait until she's finished speaking before I bring my mouth down on hers, muting those words. It's like something out of a damn movie, me kissing her in the rain, her hands on my shirt, pulling me toward her, and we're in our own private world.

At least, we're in our own world for ten fucking seconds before the security guard taps me on the shoulder. "What does this look like, a hotel?" he asks. "Get your asses off the sidewalk and get in the car before I have it towed."

Sakura looks back and forth at him and me, her eyes wide, before she bursts out laughing. "Come on," she says. "Let's get the hell out of here."


	32. 30

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story and only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story and only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV

"Well, Utakata-san isn't pleased, and there's unfortunately no way for his company to save face," Kizashi says, his brow wrinkled as he looks at me over the table at dinner.

I don't think he's entirely comfortable with the idea of Sakura and I being together, but he's not opposed to it either, and at least he's been publicly supportive. It hasn't affected the team either; I guess it's good that the scandal happened when it did during the trip, before I'd started back officially racing. My manager says I should lie low for another couple weeks and give the whole thing time to blow over. Holing up with Sakura for a few weeks sounds just fine to me.

"I'm sorry, Kizashi," I say. I'm not sorry about Sakura and I, but I'm sorry for how things turned out. If Kizashi were any other man, I'm sure he'd have fired my ass and slapped me with a lawsuit, but Kizashi just waves dismissively, his steak knife in hand.

"Naw," Kizashi says, his drawl becoming somehow thicker. "You'll be sorry if you do anything that hurts my daughter."

"Dad," Sakura warns. "He's already heard this."

"There's no harm in repeating things," Kizashi says. "That's how they stick in your memory."

"I promise I won't hurt Sakura," I say. "On my honor."

Beside me, Sakura snorts. "I didn't know you had honor," she says.

Kizashi glowers at both of us while he points at me with his knife. "For his sake, I hope he does."

Sakura giggles. "It was a joke," she says.

Kizashi shakes his head. "Give it a month before we start joking about any of this," he says.

Later that night, Sakura lies on her stomach, in bed naked, her arms on my chest as she looks at me. "So your manager recommended lying low for a few weeks?" she asks. "No racing?"

"I don't know about that, darlin'," I say. "You know I need to ride. But nothing official."

"No stunts," she warns. "Nothing stupid."

"Cross my heart," I say.

"I don't believe you," she says. "If you swore on your dick, I'd take it much more seriously."

"Is nothing sacred to you?" I smirk

as I run my hands through her hair.

"Oh, is this supposed to be sacred?" she asks, her hands running down my abdomen to my cock.

"Didn't you say you made a shrine to it?"

"Mhmm," she says, and my dick hardens to her touch. "But that was a shrine to the mold you made of it. Speaking of that….was it really your cock?"

I flip her over onto her back, kissing her gently on the lips. "I'm hurt that you couldn't tell."

She tilts her head up to look at me. "So you keep cock-making molds around your house in case of emergencies, or what?" she asks. "How did you have it done by the next morning?"

"It required effort," I admit. Specifically, I had to drive around to adult stores at two in the morning to find a dildo-making kit.

"That's a lot of work for a prank," she says.

"I had to impress you." I run my hand over her breast and watch as her nipple hardens

"Is that what you wanted?" she asks. "To impress me?"

"I've always wanted to impress you," I tell her. "Even when I was giving you grief."

"But why?" she asks. She moves against me, arching her back, and I can feel her wetness against me.

"Because I've liked you since I met you," I tell her, kissing the tip of her nose.

"But you were always going out with other girls, and –"

"And I was a stupid kid back then," I say. "And the summer we hooked up, there was no one but you, Sakura. Even before you kissed me. Once we started talking, I just…lost interest in anyone else."

She arches up to kiss me, her touch tender, and when she finally pulls away, her hand is still on my neck. "I thought – I just didn't think I meant anything to you."

"You meant everything to me," I told her. I can't believe she didn't understand the whole time. "It was always you. And when you didn't meet me that night, when you left…"

"I saw you in the news later," she says, her voice soft. "There were always photos of you with other girls."

"Why do you think there were so many?" I ask. "I was fucking gutted when you left. And then when you came back…well, I didn't know what the hell to do with you here. But I do love you. That much, I'm sure of. I think I've always loved you, Sakura."

Her eyes glistening with tears, she arches up to kiss me, her tongue finding mine hungrily. I'm trying my best to be gentle, tender, kissing along her neck and her shoulder and her arms and over her breasts and her stomach, but she pulls my head up and looks at me, her hands on both sides of my face. "Don't," she says.

"Don't what?"

"Don't make love to me, Sasuke," she whispers. "I don't want tender. I want you to fuck me."

"Hell, Sakura," I say, but the words come out raspy. This girl knows how to push every button I have with the shit that comes out of her mouth. "I tell you I love you and you tell me to fuck you hard."

A broad smile crosses her face, and she reaches for my cock, guiding it between her legs. With one thrust I'm inside her, and she's warm and wet and tight. I ride her slowly, excruciatingly, painfully slow, torturing her just for the hell of it. Letting her know who's still in control.

She grips my ass cheeks and pulls me deep inside her, and then I'm fucking her harder. She lets me know I'm not the one in control here.

I ride her until she's panting, moaning my name over and over, and when I pull out, she sighs, exasperated. "What are you doing?"

"You didn't want tender," I say. "You wanted me to fuck you."

Sakura smiles. "Yes," she whispers.

"So turn over and let me fuck you."

Sakura turns over onto her elbows, her ass in the air, and I slide easily back into her willing pussy. She moans loudly, clutching at the pillows, pressing her mouth into one as I fuck her, my thrusts harder the louder she gets. I press a finger against her asshole, and she jerks up at my touch. "Oh my God, Sasuke," she cries.

"What?"

"You're going to make me come," she moans. I thrust inside her fully, filling her up until I can't fit any more in her.

"Come for me, darlin'," I ordered her. "Tell me you want me to fill you up with my cum."

"Yes, yes," she moans. "I love the way it feels when you come inside me."

She says the words and I let go, my balls clenching and then unleashing my seed, my hands gripping her waist as I drive into her so hard I think I might drive through her. She screams as her muscles tense around me, their spasms milking my cock of every ounce.

Afterward, I pull her against me, still inside her, and roll her next to me on the bed, my leg wrapped around her. We lie there in silence, and I listen to her heart beating next to mine, her breath still ragged.

Lying there with her, my heart feels like it's going to fucking explode. I feel content, and that's not a familiar feeling.

She's so quiet that I think she's fallen asleep until she whispers soft in the room, "I love you Sasuke."

"I love you too, probably."

She slaps me hard on the arm.


	33. 31

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sasuke POV

I'm hanging out by the pool with Sai – his idea, not mine, something about needing to get some sun. The guy is in theatre, so he's in between auditions with nothing to do during the day, and Sakura's working today. Since I'm still lying low for the next couple weeks, that means I'm at the gym and riding the bike, just not publicly. And today, it means I'm hanging out at the pool with Sai, who's pretty cool.

We're sitting in loungers in the sun and Sai is telling me about Sakura and what she was like in college. "Totally type A," he says.

"Any boyfriends I need to have murdered?"

"Ooh, possessive," Sai says. "I like it. But mum's the word on boyfriends. I'm afraid I won't kiss and tell and neither does Sakura."

"So you're saying there's someone I'm going to have to kill, then," I say, and I'm about to continue when I hear Anja's voice as she comes down the walk. "Goddamn it."

Sai peers over the edge of his sunglasses. "Is that Sakura's wicked stepmother?"

I groan. "It's my mother," I say. As usual, she's dressed in something ridiculous – this time it's some kind of purple sheath dress with weirdly shaped cutouts that expose her body, something no son wants to see. And shoes with silver spikes along the heels. Behind her trails the biggest douchebag-looking guy I've ever seen, his dark hair gelled back and an orange spray tan. He's wearing a half-sheer t-shirt and a pair of stretch pants that look like they could very well be Sakura's.

I walk out the gate to meet the wicked witch and her evil minion. "Morning, mother," I say. "Showing up here in true classy form, I see."

"I came to get my things, while your father is at work," she sniffs.

"I'll tell the housekeeping staff to watch the silverware," I say.

"I can see your attitude hasn't improved any."

"It's improved plenty," I say. "But with you here, it's quickly souring."

"So you haven't come to your senses, then," she says. "You're still persisting with this disgusting relationship."

Anger surges through me, and I struggle to maintain my composure, only because my mother would love more than anything to elicit a reaction from me. That would be exactly what she wants, and I'm not inclined to give her anything she wants. "It's ironic that you find mine and Sakura's relationship disgusting when you're obviously with this little troll here."

Mikoto's eyes narrow as she looks at me. "You leave her now, or you're out of my will."

"Is there anything left?" I ask. "I'd always just assumed you spent it all on vodka and cigarettes."

"You smoke?" Orange guy, formerly silent, speaks, looking at her in shock.

"No," she says, her voice terse.

"Oh, she does a lot of things I'm sure you're not aware of," I say. "Yoga is only the newest fad. Mother, I'd appreciate it if you would write me out of the will. That way I can trust that I'll never have one of these little visits from you again."

"You've always been an ungrateful little shit," she says. "You're nothing without me. I raised you."

"Yes," I say. "Despite your best efforts to the contrary, you raised a son who through some twist of fate was able to land a girl like Sakura. And I don't mind telling you to just go fuck yourself."

"You don't talk to me that way," she says, but I turn to head back to the pool.

"I'm calling up to the housekeeping staff now," I say. "I'm sure it would be best if one of the security guards escorted you while you pack up your things."

She unleashes a barrage of curses at me, but I'm not listening as I return to the lounge chair beside Sai.

"Well, that was dramatic," he says.

I settle back against the chair and close my eyes. "I'm Sasuke Uchiha," I say. "Would you really fucking expect anything less?"

Later, I sat in the oversized chair in the guesthouse living room. Sakura sits on my lap, snuggled up with her face buried in my neck. A year ago, if you'd have told me that I'd be happily cuddling with a girl, much less Sakura Haruno, I'd have told you to go fuck yourself. Yet, here we are. And it feels good.

"Sai said he conned you into laying out by the pool with him today," she says. "He was totally scoping you out."

"Well, I'm a hot piece of ass," I tell her. "Make sure you don't forget it."

Sakura giggles. "I'll try not to," she says. "So Mikoto showed up, huh?"

"With the yoga instructor she's seeing, Aoi or something," he says. "Your poor father."

She's silent for a minute. "I think he might be more relieved than anything, honestly."

I pull her away from me and look at her carefully. "You think there's actually hope for us, then?"

"Like, happily ever after and all that?" she asks. "I don't know if it'll work, Sasuke."

"Well, shit, at least no one can say you're not honest." I bristle at her words.

"No," she says. "Let me finish. I don't know what the future holds or anything like that. I don't know if it'll work. But I know that when you find someone that makes you think about the future that way, you have to jump with both feet, and give it a shot."

"You're such a fucking romantic," I say.

Sakura slaps me. "It's not going to be all rainbows and sunshine, you know," she says.

"God, I fucking hope not," I tell her.


	34. 32

Disclaimer: Naruto and the Tool are the property of their respective owners. I am is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the material. I don't own anything. I didn't write this story only put Naruto characters in place of the original characters. I didn't write this story only replaced various things. The original is by Sabrina Paige

Sakura POV

Two years later

"Oh my God, Sasuke, hurry up!" I yell upstairs. "We're late for the wedding! The limo driver is literally standing outside the front door!"

Sasuke walks down the stairs dressed in a tuxedo, looking so hot I swear my panties should be melting off. If I were wearing any panties under this dress. But I'm not, at Sasuke's request. It's totally inappropriate, but then Sasuke and I were never really all that appropriate, I guess. He gives me that cocky smirk of his, and wolf whistles. "Whoa. Look at you."

"Good?" I spin around in the dress, a wine-colored floor length gown with an off the shoulder neckline.

"Great," Sasuke says, sliding his hand around my back and dipping me back as he kisses me. I slap him on the arm, and he pulls me back up.

"Don't mess up my hair," I tell him.

"I'm thinking of taking you back upstairs so I can mess up a lot more than your hair," he says. He flicks his tongue over my earlobe and I swat him away.

"You're going to have lipstick all over you, and you know Tsunade will kill you," I tell him. "And my father will kill you if you make us late for their wedding because you're debauching me."

In the car, I swat Sasuke's hand away again as it roams my dress. "You're terrible."

"Are you naked under that dress?" he asks, his voice low in my ear.

"Yes," I say. "But you have to keep your hands off me until after the wedding." My father is getting remarried. His fiancé is wonderful – she's smart and successful, a corporate litigator. She doesn't take shit from my father – and he's never been happier. And we're late for their wedding, which is in precisely thirty-three minutes.

"Cruel and unusual punishment," he says.

The wedding is beautiful, small and appropriate for my father's third marriage, just family and friends in a church in downtown Konoha. Mikoto is not invited, obviously, and my mother isn't there. My mother hasn't spoken to any of us since the scandal when Sasuke and I first were discovered, even though the scandal itself faded away pretty quickly. Sasuke was able to get back into racing a month later. His string of victories on the track brought him an even larger public following. The scandal still loomed over him somewhat, and even though it was brought up every so often by an overzealous reporter, Kizashi and Mikoto's divorce made it pretty much a moot point.

I hug my father and Tsunade before we leave the reception. "I'm so happy for you both," I say, and before I know it, I'm tearing up. "I'm sorry," I sniffle, cursing my hormones for making me cry. "It's just such a beautiful day."

In the limo, Sasuke slides his arm around me. "It's nice to see your father so happy."

"The wedding was beautiful," I say. And I feel myself tearing up again.

Sasuke cups my chin and studies my face. I flush under his gaze, and I know I need to tell him. I've just been waiting for the right time. "I don't think I've ever seen you tear up so much in one day," he says.

"Sasuke, I –" I start, but he interrupts me, kissing me lightly on the lips.

"Wait. I have something to show you."

"I have something I need…" To tell you, I want to finish, but before I can, he's pulling me out of the limo. I almost drop my purse as I walk, but Sasuke picks it up and I want to show him what's inside it, but I don't. "Why are we at my father's house?"

"You have to come with me," he says. "No questions."

He holds my hand, and one of the staff nods at us as we walk through the hallway. "Everything is set, Mr. Uchiha."

"What?" I ask. "What's set? What are we doing here?"

"No questions," Sasuke says softly. "Just come with me."

He leads me up to the sunroom on the roof, and opens the glass door. The setting sun bathes the entire room in warm pinks and reds. Strings of little white lights hang from the roof and down the sides of the glass walls. The furniture has been cleared away from the middle of the room, everything except for a small table with a white cloth. And a little eggshell blue box in the middle.

Before I can say anything, Sasuke has the box in his hand and he's down on one knee in front of me. Tears stream down my face as he opens it. "I loved you before I knew what it even meant to love someone," he says. "I want you, forever. Marry me."

I'm saying yes over and over, and Sasuke laughs as I pull him to his feet to kiss him. "Those are good tears, right?"

"Yes, yes, yes," I say. "They're very good tears." Then I'm laughing hysterically, and Sasuke is looking at me like I'm crazy.

"What did I say?" he asks.

I shake my head. "It's the hormones," I say. "I'm a mess. I was about to tell you in the car, but you had all of – this planned and –"

"Tell me what?" he asks.

I open my purse and hand him my own eggshell blue box, watching his brow furrow. "Here," I say. "Open it."

"You got me a ring, too?" he asks.

"No," I say. "Just open it up."

He slides off the lid and holds the tiny spoon in his hand. "A silver spoon?"

"They didn't have any rattles," I say.

I watch as his expression changes and a look of realization passes over his face. "Really?"

"Really."

"You're fucking serious," he says. "You're pregnant?"

I nod. "You're happy?" I ask. "I can't tell. Are you happy?"

He scoops me up in his arms, spinning me around until I'm dizzy, before he puts me back down. "Are you kidding?" he asks. "I can't believe you're even asking me that. Am I happy? We're going to have a baby? I'm going to be a father? I'm going to be a dad!"

He yells, and one of the housekeepers pokes her head into the sunroom. "Is everything okay?"

Sasuke walks over to her and hugs her, spinning her around before he kisses her cheek. "I'm going to be a dad, Chiyo!"

Then Sasuke bounces back to me. I don't think I've ever seen him so crazy-happy. I didn't think Sasuke got crazy-happy.

Sasuke kisses me full on the mouth. "I love you, you know."

There are few things in life I know with certainty, but that much, I definitely know.


End file.
